A wispy piano sound drifted through the wind, the sound of shuffling feet almost drowning it out. The Oakwood coffin shone brightly in the sun, showing what was done in this small, quiet town. No one spoke a word; all their questions could be answered by the piano. A sickly sweet sound, practically laughing at them, rang throughout the ceremony. Not a soul in this foresting town had enough money to buy a beautiful piano, and the closest piano would be in the town across the forest.

The only one in this harrowing little village to not be sad and angry was a small little boy, around the age of ten, with sandy blonde hair, smaragdine eyes, and the thickest eyebrows one would ever see. He hummed along to the beat, not caring what anyone said or thought. He was wearing a dark green tattered arm suit with a twig in his hand. The child was moving his twig around in the dirt, scribbling line after line on top of each other.

The mess of lines looked like a huge mess from afar, but when one was to get closer they would see a picture start to form, a cliff with a stick person walking off it, seeming to follow a small illegible shape. The boy used his foot to mess up the drawing, with a giggle and a smile. He skipped down a well-worn path, a skip in his step as he walked the sounds of the piano getting louder and louder, until it was like someone was playing right next to him. Arthur followed a well-worn trail into the depths of the leering forest. He pushed back a rather prickly shrub and came upon a quaint clearing. Sitting next to a great oak tree, he remembered his past adventures of climbing up its trunk, trying to reach the top.

Many a time when he scaled the large tree and feel down, he sometimes felt the soft fur of a creature keeping his small head above his heart. Often a small green ball of fur with wings would fly around him and sing sweet songs of love to nurture him into a pleasing sleep. Other times, a soft muzzle would push on his leg when dawn would crack, and as the child would flutter his eyes to see a new morning, he would catch glimpses of a pure white horned creature, majestic and proud, dashing across the meadow. Magical things happen in the dark forest, and Arthur knew it.

But still, the most magical thing Arthur had ever seen was the glowing lights dancing around the flowers, causing them to bloom as the sounds of a soft piano played throughout the forest. He always hid behind a velvety bush, the soft leaves caressing his skin. This time, as he watched the enticing spectacle, a soft white light approached him, beckoning him into a dance. Arthur, surprised the creatures had noticed him watching them, did what any gentleman would do and accepted with a slight nod of his head, allowing the light to lead him away from the bush. As the soft leaves grabbed at his ankles to keep him there, he wondered what he had gotten himself into.

The piano played a soft melody, of serenity, peace, and solace, everything the world tried to be and failed every time. Arthur twisted and turned around the sprite, as it danced along with him. It was graceful and light-footed, while Arthur was clumsy and tripping over his own feet. As he fell into the harmony, his feet moving in beat into a light-hearted beat. Twist, dive, dip, turn. As the piano sounds got stronger, the song twisted and ripped itself into the sounds of war, hate, and death. Sweat dripped from his brow, and with his feet caked in dirt, the diapason dropping back into the peaceful sound and died down into a whisper. The sounds of thunder, as if a hundred thousand hands were banging on the piano, were the clapping sound he got as he made his bow. Arthur smiled. He just made his first real friend.