Music bellowed the streets for celebration or an act for just making sound so wonderful it could call any woodland creature. Herds of small animals did silently rush towards the edges of the street. They sniffed and cooed so eagerly to the beautiful music. It was like a parade, not just one single person making sound, but a whole flock of elves creating an ever enjoying resonance. Already was the air in this magical forest city enchanting, but the music just enhanced that wonderful feeling. There were sounds of small harps, trumpets, and a few other sounds that Ploay couldn’t decipher. Whatever they were it was lovely this magical night. Although it was night, and in a forest some how there were lights just like a street lamp; but these lights hovered and sparkled around. They could have even been mistaken as fireflies and maybe they were.

Ploay was standing tall in the midst of many elves, leaving room in the middle of the street for any band to come on though. Her violet eyes couldn’t see them yet but she knew that they were coming from below. Excitement riddled her mind as she stood patient next to a few eleven women. Never had she heard anything quite like this. She remembered hearing angels sing when she was younger. Also she remembered hearing more than one angel sing and play an instrument. Yet she couldn’t recall anyone group to march throughout a city like this. Instead of the elves being angry that there was a loud but pleasant sound pulling them away from work or whatever they were doing, they seemed happy, very happy.

Seeing movement turning down the wooden slope, she them fully saw them and realized what the other sound was. I’ll be a monkey’s aunt, she thought to herself, as she witnessed the band signing. The other sounds were vocal, and they were singing in eleven which would make since also the reason why Ploay couldn’t tell what that sound was. Dressed in a light blue dress hanging down to her ankles, she smiled at the sights of the elves. There were at least twenty of them, singing in harmony it seemed. Suddenly happiness struck her soul for it was the most glorious sight and sound she had ever heard. Then a strange feeling crept upon her as she thought a hand or many an arm might had brushed passed her. Ploay figured it may be just been someone was trying to get a better view, so her eyes never left the flock of music playing elves.

Silently and swiftly, a figure leaped out from her side of standbys, and landing a few yards away in front of the flock. Most heads turned to the fallen figure but others kept watching the band, oddly slowing up to a complete stop. Silence filled the city as the music stopping playing. The figure looked like a little boy or maybe a little girl with short red hair. The body was on the ground face first and Ploay feared that maybe the figure was in trouble. Nudging the standbys with her left shoulder, Ploay made it out to the street, and hurriedly walked to the figure. In a heap of brownish robes was absolute stillness. On of the band members, holding a small harp got to the figure first and much to everyone’s eyes dismay did the figure finally move.

Ploay saw the motion in one quick action as the heap of brown robes leaped to the right, towards the harp holding band member. It moved like some wild animal which made one sound break the silence. It was a scream a big ear piercing scream at the figure. The figures hand landing on the harp, holding it for dear life. The band member must of thought the harp was not worth rising his life if that was what the figure wanted. So in an instant, the band member let go of the harp, and the non hideous figure stumbled backwards. Soon catching ground the figure, whom Ploay believed to be a female, dashed upwards, deeper in the well lit city. One harp gone, Ploay thought that they could still play be the band were shouting at the figure, almost ordering to return their instrument. Ploay walked to the band member who had his harp stolen, “can’t you still sing? Do you really need that harp to play such glorious music?” The band member nodded and said in a reply, “Yes, could you perhaps maybe find someone to help retrieve it?” Ploay looked up a the canopy then back down to the elf’s blue eyes. “Better, I can go and try to get it,” then turning to the two groups aligned on the street she replied, “If anyone else wants to help, you’re more then welcome.”

With those words said, she took up in the air with her big black wings, and began to chase the thief.

Malisaro probably stuck out like a sore thumb, and he didn't doubt it for one second; this was an elven city, and he was dark, most evels wore bright, long robes, he wore tatty dark ones hiding his face aside from his eyes which were blood red. Definatly not the sort of place he'd like to hang out, but he had no choice but to come here, of all creatures elves must certainly have a cure for his curse, somehow. Although, judging on the current events he didn't seem it likely that he would find any healiers or clerics at the moment, since practically the whole population seemed to be drawn to the streets.

He looked about in the crowd, noting that some elves were giving him a wide birth, either because of him or the white wolf trotting at his side. From what he could guess, they were waiting for something, most likely that musci that was coming from somewhere, he looked round, noting the faint sight of some people watching something. He stopped and listened for a moment, Karnen obediantly sitting down and taking the oppertunity to lick his paw, as he listened to it he felt it trying to dig into the back of his mind, and pull out something he's long ago lost.
Happniness? He thought I can berely even remeber what that is now.
He looked down at Karnen, still washing himself, and wondered if the wolf was capable of feeling the effect that the music was giving, was Karnen capable of emotion?

"Hm,"
Malisaro looked back up and saw the band approaching slowly, noting the various instruments being player. As it drew closer he felt the music drilling deep inside him, trying to reignite the spark he'd lost, and to his suprise it seemed to be succeeding.
"Huh?" He stumbled, unsure of what to do, he could feel his mood lighten up, as though his soul was being lit up.
He looked up at the harp one of the elves was playing, the music from it seemed almost hypnotic to him. The sensation soon ended however as one of the watchers seemed to collapse, and Malisaro felt his usualy emotionless mood set back in, unable to recover the feeling he'd just experienced.

He looked up and saw the elf with the harp walking over to the fallen child, Malisaro moved closer, easily pushing through a crowd of elves not wanting to have anything to do with him. Almost as soon as he'd reach the scene the child leapt up and snatched the harp, running off immediatly.
"Huh?" It happened so fast Malisaro didn't even know what had happened "Karnen, follow." He ordered.
Karned gave a nod and then ran in the direction of the thief, keeping a safe distance away.
Malisaro looked round at the elf and the Wind Guardian talking to him.
"Can’t you still sing? Do you really need that harp to play such glorious music?" She asked the elf.
"Yes," the elf replied "could you perhaps maybe find someone to help retrieve it?"
Malisaro glared back in the direction of the thief, right now it seemed that the music the elves had been playing was able to releive of some of his self suffering.
"Considering that comment, I assume you have a plan?" He said folding his arms.

Kaze could not believe what he was experiencing, the little bit of elf in him was probably doing somersaults somewhere in his being. It took weeks of travel to get to the Elven capital of Yomenïampa. Weeks of polishing his Sindarin with Faile, they even made a secret language based on the languages they know. Namely Sindarin mixed with Common and Drowish, this added to the fact that they were using Common sentence structure, all added up to an interestingly fluid language. There was one side effect though, to make it understandable to each other, they spoke sentences in it very quickly, making it sound like a stream of useless words.

Anyway, back to the city.

”So this is where my Great Grandfather and Great Grandmother live,” he whispered looking around as he ate his festival cake. Then he suddenly wondered what Faile was up to, she said something about getting more cake.

Kaze chuckled, as his mind threw at him a hilarious scene with her beating elves down for the festival cakes, Faile was definitely the little sister he wished he had. He closed his eyes and listened to every single sound, and even scented every single smell. Subconsciously, he enhanced all senses in question until it got to a point where he heard the robbery at the performance area on the other side of the open air space. His eyes snapped open and for the first time, a pair of faded blue wings erupted out of his back. It was a good thing that his clothing was enchanted for shapeshifter use.

Suddenly serious, he hurtled in pursuit of the thief and a strange black-winged woman. Kaze felt a slight connection with her, but he quickly brushed aside the thought. He will figure that out after this fiasco right now, there was a thief to catch.

Night has washed over the Elven city of Yomenïampa but all was not silent, on this night the sound of music could be heard wrapping around the trees and steadily getting closer and closer towards a larger gathering of people. In this fine city a young Archangel had come to hear the glorious sound of the elven music, he was standing high above one of the trees in which the city was built upon just looking down towards the others with a small smile crossing over his lips. His large white angelic wings were wrapped around him to keep his form warm, after all on this night he had chosen not to wear his magnificent golden armour and had instead went for the more casual look by wearing a pair a long black pants (which were made by sewing a Cloak of Neutrality) while his top half was covered with a flowing white and black cleric looking top which had no sleeve, this item of clothing was also made from a magical item by sewing a Winters Embrace into it.

Leaning against the trunk of the tree the angel let his long brown hair flow over his shoulders as he listened to the music steadily getting louder as the band drew in closer to the crowd. The sound was truly beautiful and the angel, how was known as Zenith Meria, loved the sound of it so much. It was nice to finally be able to relax for once and listen to the music of the elven people.

The only other items Zenith had on his person were six rings, five of which held magical properties while the last was a symbol of the angels marriage to a woman called Esgalrin, he also had a strange looking bangle on each arm which would slightly increase his physical strength, as for weapons Zenith had only taken one with him which was a finely crafted golden blade that was sheathed at his side. Said blade was a combination of a Holy Blade and Resplendent Countering Longsword making it a powerful item to use in the heat of any battle. Making sure his blade was still in place Zenith then slowly turned his head to the right where he saw one of his familiars sitting on his shoulder, it was a tiny little grey mouse by the name of Keal however unknown to others in the world of Arda was that this little mouse was able to cast every single spells that Zenith knew.

Within a few moments Zenith could see the first of the band appearing, every single one of them letting out their own melody to the fine music being heard, however the music suddenly came to an abrupt hold as a figure fell in front of the band. Kindly one of the band members headed over to the fallen figure to see if it was ok, Zenith was not sure if the person was male or female as he to far away from the gathered crowd. With a small yet swift whistle the Archangel called on his Chocobo, Horta, to go to the base of the tree, once the Chocobo was in place the ethereal one jumped down from the tree he was and landed on the Chocobo (after all he was not exactly falling fast thanks to his Ring of Feather Falling)

Once on the Chocobo Zenith started moving towards the crowd, it was only a few moments after he had gotten passed most of the gathered Elven people that he saw the fallen figure was of, however they had very quickly gotten off of the ground and grab the harp from one of the band members. Zenith hated seeing people commit crimes just about as much as he hated those aligned to the Darkness so he was ready to help the Elf obtain his harp back in an instant.

There was a black winged being near the Elf who said, “Can’t you still sing? Do you really need that harp to play such glorious music?” only for the Elf to reply, “Yes, could you perhaps maybe find someone to help retrieve it?” It seemed that the harp that had been stolen was indeed important. The angel was just about to say he would help when the black winged woman went on to say, “Better, I can go and try to get it, if anyone else wants to help, you’re more then welcome.” She then took to the air with her mighty wings spread out.

The Archangel of Life also noticed two other figures head in the same direction of the winged woman while another man, whom Zenith knew for certain was evil thanks to his power to detect those evil in the world of Arda, began to talk to the Elf that had lost the harp. Letting a sigh pass by his lips Zenith said, “Horta, follow the black winged woman!” With that the mighty Chocobo started running in the direction that the thief had headed into, thanks to its great running speed the Chocobo was able to catch up to the others fairly fast. If the dark figure that the angel had seen in city were to follow him and get in his way then Zenith would have no choice buy to destroy him, after all there was no way the angel would work with those tainted by Darkness!

Music filled the air, flowing throughout the elven city of Yomenïampa. The music was enchanting, binding all of those who heard it. It made the inhabitents of the city stop what they were doing and wonder how such music could be made without magic. Elves filled the streets, watching the parade of musicians make their way serenly through the city. The sound of the music should have been calming and peaceful, but it was lost on one young man who was making his way on the streets. The young man was dressed in light colored pants that allowed free movement. A tunic of the same color was worn, and a simple cloak was thrown over his shoulders. The cloak reached down almost to the ground, and it did a good job of covering the man. Sticking out against the simple cloth, was a pair of metal gaunlets that were worn on both of his hands. The long sleeves of the tunic were neatly tucked into the gauntlets, and the outfit was completed by a belt around his waist.

Alberich let out a sigh. At that point in time, he felt hunted and haunted. Hurrying around a corner, Alberich barely managed to stop from colliding with a trio of female elves walking the other way. Blushing a bright crimson, Alberich stammered an apology. One of the elves assured him that they were alright, but it was ruined by a small giggle that escaped her lips. If it was even possible, Alberich blushed even more. Hurrying away, Alberich sighed again. He knew that the elven woman had not meant to be mean, she was simply laughing because of how he had reacted. But it didn't matter, the result was still the same. How in the world did Elves manage to be so graceful all of the time?!? Alberich felt like a sore thumb, he felt like every eye was watching him.

Standing still for a moment, something changed. It took Alberich a few seconds to figure out what it was. The music had stopped. But why? Walking swiftly towards where the parade was supposed to be, Alberich managed to hear what had happened. One of the musical instruments had been stolen, and the thief was making a break for it. Scanning the crowd, Alberich saw several beings heading in the same direction, and they appeared to be confident in where they were going. Deciding quickly, Alberich chased after them, checking his weapons as he went. Shrugging his shoulders, he felt the throwing knife he had hidden there. His fighting knife was securly in one of his boots. The set of short claws he sometimes wore over his gauntlets were just behind his left side, ready for use. Rushing into the wide street, Alberich chased after the two winged figures who were apparently also trying to find the thief. Alberich wasn't exactly sure how much of a help he could be, but he knew that he could probably surprise someone if he needed to. Since he looked younger than he actually was, few people thought him a threat. When it came to fighting, Alberich was full of surprises.

And now it was the time when the moon, radient beauty bathing the land in a faint silver tinge, relieved the sun of her duty, taking it's own time to do the watch.
But tonight was different from the others in Yomenïampa, the elven city. The guards were on duty, but their attention was drawn to something sweeter than that. The sweet sounds of music resounded triumphantly around the streets, the sounds of the virtuosic elven musicians, and the intricate vocal harmonies of a choir so talented, it could make a Goddess jealous. One elf in particular, a guard by the name of Ancalë, was drawn into the music so much, that he seemed focused on little else. Ancalë had loved music of all it's forms since he had been little. It always seemed to calm him when he needed calming, the make him think when he wished to be pensive, and to energize him when he thought it best.
The music of tonight was one of celebration to him, and so he took the moment to thank the Goddess of Life for the blessings and gifts he had recieved from her divine hand, and for the bad moments that made him realize how lucky he truly was. Had he known what was about to happen, however, the elf would have postponed his religious services.
For as the guard sat, mounted on his beautiful Warhorse, spear on back, sword at hip and dagger at the back of his belt, the beautiful music played on and he was temporarily lost in devotion, all the while a stranger unbeknownst to them all, was plotting his move.

In an instant, the music stopped playing and silence entombed all of the life in the forest, if but for a moment. A shriek echoed in it's place, and all turned to Chaos. Ancalë's amber eyes snapped open and took in the scene. He was not as close as he wished he could've been, but his keen elven eyes made up for it. There were figures on the ground, and one figure, clad in a brown robe, was struggling with one of the musicians, trying, it appeared, to steal one of the instruments. Ancalë watched the harp go free, and the one in brown tumbled to the earth before taknig off, fleeing deeper into the elven city. Ancalë was angry with himself for not being more alert, but he smirked at the thief who fled deeper into the streets the guard knew so well. Nudging his Warhorse on, he nonverbally took off, the thundering sound of hooves at gallop filling his ears along with the rushing of the wind. Another figure, a woman, black winged it appeared took to the sky in pursuit of the thief as well. Soon after, Ancalë noted others on foot, taking after the thief, they seemed to know what they were doing. One more took after the thief, however, a white winged one riding on a strange, however fast, bird creature. The guards eyes narrowed as he saw just whom that was. It was the legendary Archangel of Life, Zenith Meria. Ancalë smiled as his steed punded the ground towards his destinatation; it was always good to have allies.

The guard looked up at the places where there should be archers. There were none yet. Ancalë held nothing against them, but wished desperately that they had help from the archers. But then again, he thought about the woman with the black wings, they did have help from the skies. Something about that woman was nagging at the back of Ancalë's mind. He thought that he should've known who she was, but he just couldn't remember for the life of him. A disturbance in the shadows and the ever so faint glitter of harp strings up ahead told him where he ought to go, and so the warhorse charged, even as the guard's ornate spear left its baldric. The thief was hardly worth the time, but if there was going to be a chase, then Ancalë would make sure it would be one the thief would remember until their dying day; which, Ancalë conceded to himself, might not be as far off as it seemed.

Swiftly the thief ran though the crowd, ducking the hands that were trying to reach and stop the criminal. The small being ran as if its life depended on it, and if it didn’t reach the goal then surely its short life will be cut down. There wasn’t a chance that the justice system of Yomenïampa is so forgiving without good reason. In Ploay’s violet eyes she couldn’t see one good reason at all besides trying to cause trouble. Innocent until proven guilty, ha everyone and their mother had seen the small figure steal the harp. Yet maybe the little figure might have had a good reason. From the size of the fast figure, it looked like a child around eleven years old; or it could be a Halfling, a dwarf and the list goes on from there.

Ploay flew above the heads of the pedristians trying to capture the thief, somewhere behind her she could hear that there were people also chasing the thief. The guardian of wind didn’t want any harm to come to the figure unless the figure was to attack back. But what if there were more of them? What if the little figure had big friends, a lot of big friends that could do some harm? Quick as a gale she brushed that thrilling thought out of her mind as she focused on the figure. Feet between them were closing and Ploay was close enough to hear the pants from the figure’s lungs. Exhaustion was getting to the poor thing, and would most likely collapse on the wooden ground before anyone could catch it. Lavender eyes of sadness frowned thinking that the poor being would run itself to death. Maybe she could stop it before it would push itself to its limit. “Please halt, I just want to talk to you,” she said to the figure in a soft voice loud enough to overcome the sounds of footsteps and shouting. Yet the figure didn’t look behind, it kept running strait towards a wooden tower. The dark shadow of Ploay now hovered over the figure, then it looked up, and staring at her violet eyes were pairs of green eyes staring back. Those emerald eyes belong to a little girl no more than eleven years old.

A look of shock and horror filled those emerald eyes as she didn’t except anyone to catch up with her so soon. Not looking where she was going, the girl tripped on an uneven bark that sent her forward. The motion didn’t cause her to fall all the way, but only to stumble to a slow jog. “Go away!” The girl screamed at Ploay while making a few yards to the tower’s entrance. Ploay folded her ashen wings and fell to the ground. It didn’t take long until her feet touched the surface, and then her knees buckled into a crouch. Instantly the door was shut on her face, and Ploay stood up to stare at the closed door. Silently she moved to the door to put her right ear against the wood. Sounds of voice, more then one filled her mind as she could only imagine what was taking place in there.

“You lead them here?!” an angry voice spoke yet hushed not to make too much noise.
“What was I suppose to do?” a tear filled question lurched at the other voice. Different questions like these went back and forth. Ploay’s tanned left digits felt their way on the wooden handle, but no effort of pushing or pulling did any good, it was locked. An annoyed look on her face appeared just in time to hear other people gathering around the tower. Such crowding stuck a slight feeling of claustrophobia but she tried not to think about it.

Tightly tied around her waist was the sword of air, the only weapon at her disposal that she truly cherished. Using violence now in a noble city wouldn’t be a wise thing, not only that she was just a child. Also she really doubted if it was healthy for a child to loose her parents or friends. Attacking wasn’t even in the guardian’s mind at that point; all she really wanted was to get that harp back and to enjoy good old fashioned music was that too much to ask? Maybe it was…or maybe it wasn’t.

A strange rush of euphoria filled the shapeshifter's being as he ducked and weaved around the buildings of the elven city. He was not doing this just for fun though, he really did not fly a lot thanks to the strain it put on his body, but this was necessary. Ahead of him was the mysterious black-winged woman, and that was all he focused on as he took a sharp right after the woman. Almost spiraling out of control and ramming into a wall, as he took the corner with his wings to the outside, he managed to stay in the chase, though now he noticed that there were others behind him. Ahead the woman took a left and that was where he folowed, though this time, his wings were on the inside of the curve.

He did not fly for long before he reached the tower and as he landed somewhat awkwardly, he willed he wings to withdraw back into his body, his imagination. A single sky blue feather was all that was left. He walked up to her, careful that he didn't make to much noise, he stopped beside the black-winged woman and nodded in an silent greeting. Following her example, Kaze shifted his ears into an elven shape, but more sensitive.

"This doesn't sound good," Kaze whispered to Ploay, his normally carefree voice was laced with worry. "Do you want me to check it out?"

Karnen weaved in and out of the crowd attempting to seize the girl, easily moving through due to his small size, this made it easier for him to follow a straight path behind the girl rather than having to weave through the mass of elves attempting to catch her, this was the main reason why Malisaro preffered a wolf to a steed, not exactly faster or rideable but able to weave through small gaps that a horse never could, but Karnen was not without speed, he kept himself the same distance behind the girl all the time, just within his line of vision but completely hidden amongst the elves about him.

He spotted the girl look up and stumble and nearly caught up with her, but Malisaro's intrcutions were to follow, not catch. The girl rushed in through a door and slammed it shut, Karnen skidded to a halt outside, staring up at it as the two winged beasts arrived one after the other, the first one listened at the door, listening to what was going on inside, Karnen could hear perfectly from here, his wolf ears moved towards the door, picking up what was happening inside.

“You lead them here?!” an angry voice spoke yet hushed not to make too much noise.

“What was I suppose to do?” a tear filled question lurched at the other voice. Different questions like these went back and forth.

The second angel arrived and portrayed his discomfort to the Wind guardian. Karnen was uable to communicat directly, so he merely sat still, waiting for Malisaro to arrive.


Malisao turned to the elf who had lost the harp, who was giving him an almost digusted look.
"I don't know what you're doing here," the elf said mistrustfully "but I do not need you to help me."
Malisaro sighed, he hated people like this.
"I have no quarrel with you, elf," he said, narrowing his eyes "so don't give me one. Whatever properties that harp has, I'm afraid I must know of them, so like it or not you've got my help, so be grateful."
He turned and walked away, his long black cloak flowing behind him as he walked swiftly on, the crowd moving away from his and thus making it far easier for him to move through them.

He stopped, a while later, nearby where Karnen, Ploay, and Kaze has arrived, and watched them casually. He gave a short cought and Karnen turned his head, trotting to his ankle and sitting up.
"They wne't inside there?" He asked the wolf who gave a short nod "I see," he muttered, "a little foolish to attempt to hid so near," he rested his hand on his chin before he noticed the others standing around the door, he gave a quiet nod, assuring he meant to help as far as they were concerned.

As Kiesu sat in a chair looking up at the beautiful sight which hover over the elven city he heard the sound of running feet. He ignored this sound and turned his head to beautiful moonlight which held strongly in the night surrounded by the stars. He then heard more running feet which he again ignored, his mind was afixed onto the light of the moon sitting elegently in the skt, bathing evrything in a beautiful glow. His mind changed from the moonlit night as he heard a voice emit loudly from a tower.

Kiesu decided to go see what the commotion was and noticed people standing in front of the door to a tower. He simply walked up to them and asked what was going on.