Devil’s Music

A man of breathtaking beauty sang in a delicate tenor from behind the girl, dressed in a white medieval tunic, barefoot with sandals on.

"Like a giant whirlwind with its tail touching the ground, the essence of sorrow is much larger than you know. Yet, its root might be as small and insignificant as the tail of the whirlwind you see. Do not be deceived by the giant whirlwind blocking your sight; sorrow can reveal its small roots through the silver harmony of music."

As Geon's voice, resembling that of a string instrument, filled the stage, Norman broke into a cold sweat. Carlos was equally surprised, sitting up straight on the sofa, gripping the front seat tightly, eyes wide open. Norman wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked at his hand, shaking his head.

"Kay, you surprise me every time. I wondered what role you would take in the opera... to play the role of music itself is even more astonishing than playing a god, a demon, or an angel."

Carlos nodded in agreement to Norman's murmur, then suddenly pointed at the stage with a trembling voice.

"Did that ten-year-old kid write all these lyrics?"

Norman's mouth dropped open as he considered the sophistication of the lyrics and Kiska's age. The African American girl on stage suddenly looked around, as if she couldn't see Geon, then began digging the ground again as the stage lights dimmed and a woman's voice echoed from behind the curtain.

"1940. That was the year I turned 13."

As the lights came back on, a young man, now the brother of the girl, stepped out of a collapsing house with a large bag, followed by their parents bidding farewell. The mother, holding onto her departing son, shed tears while the father embraced them both. The girl, standing alone, stepped forward and began singing to the audience with a desperate expression.

I would say without hesitation to let my brother return safely.

If God were to ask me what my second wish is,

I would ask for a world without the horrors of war.

If God were to ask me what my last wish is,

I would ask for my small family to live happily.

As the boy waved goodbye and the parents tearfully watched him leave before going back inside, the girl alone drew her brother's face on the ground with a twig.

I wish for our country to be the most beautiful,

Not the strongest, for just as I hurt from others' invasions,

So would they from mine.

As the lights dimmed again, a woman's voice, hidden behind the curtain, spoke.

"The world has always sought to slander the brave. The voice of conscience against the roar of the crowd has fought for as long as history itself. And in that long history, we lost my brother."

Two soldiers in US military uniform glanced at the girl sitting alone before knocking on the door. The mother, opening the door with a hopeful expression, fainted upon seeing the sorrowful soldiers, and the father, rushing to support her, wept as he looked at the soldiers, unable to bear watching them any longer.

"Oh God! Do you exist?

Why do you appear before me as a wall of resentment,

Playing the cursed rhythm of fate?

Why won't you stop that music!

Why did you take my son!

When will my family and I be able to smile again!"

As the father sang in despair, kneeling beside the fainted mother, the audience began wiping their tears. Around the world, people sitting in front of their PCs also sensed they were shedding tears together as the stage lights went out.

The Chief of Staff, showing his displeasure, glanced at Harold Winston. The harsh stance on North Korea's nuclear issue that Harold Winston was pushing seemed undoubtedly influenced by the horrors of war shown in the performance. Harold Winston, without a word, just tapped his cheek with his fingers while resting his elbow on the armrest, focusing on the stage.

The Chief of Staff leaned towards Harold Winston, speaking in a suggestive tone.

"It's a story from the past. From a time of direct conflict, not missile wars. And it's because of such a history that we have the America of today, Mr. President."

Harold Winston adjusted his posture and waved his hand dismissively.

"Later. I want to focus on the performance now."

Straightening up, the Chief of Staff looked uncomfortably at the stage. The woman's voice from behind the curtain sounded as if she was holding back tears.

"When I thought the flame of hope had completely extinguished and not a single ember was left in the ashes, music reappeared before me."

A girl of about fifteen, carrying a basket, emerged from a collapsing house. Her face bore the fatigue and hardships of life, devoid of hope. As she sat down in the field in front of her house, despair and emptiness swirling in her eyes, Geon appeared from behind the house.

Geon observed the girl quietly before approaching her silently

from behind. As he looked down at the girl staring at the sky, he spoke.

"Your belief becomes your thoughts,

Your thoughts become your words,

Your words become your actions,

Your actions become your habits,

Your habits become your values,

Your values become your destiny.

There are seven sins in this world: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, business without morality, science without humanity, politics without principle... and the last, prayer without sacrifice. Child, without sacrifice, nothing can be achieved. Your dead brother is not a sacrifice. Do not waste your time; work from dawn till dusk, and even if you fall asleep exhausted, dedicate at least five minutes for yourself. Those five minutes of sacrifice amidst the tiredness of life's poverty are true sacrifice. Pray through sacrifice."

As Geon gently covered the girl's ears with his hands, she, gazing blankly at the sky, closed her eyes. Geon looked down at her with warm eyes and sang.

"There is music in the rustling of grass, the flow of streams, the tickling of the wind in your ears, the cry of insects. Feel the fragments of music shattering deep within your small heart, girl."

As Geon's voice, almost a monologue between singing and speaking, filled the opera house, sounds resembling natural acoustic effects began. The girl, with her eyes closed, smiled and slowly raised her hands, as if conducting the sounds of nature.

As Geon stepped back and disappeared into the darkness, the girl, left alone, waved her hands continuously, smiling.

"I was born in a poor family and spent even poorer teenage years. To me, studying was like a dream. But the natural sounds gifted by music made me dream. Since that day, I've climbed the mountain every day to start a chorus with nature.

And there, I met him."

As the entire stage began to rotate, the audience was initially confused but soon realized it was a common stage background change in plays and refocused. The stage, fully rotated, revealed hills filled with grass and flowers against a backdrop of tall mountains. The girl, now around eighteen, ran across the mountain with flowers in one hand, smiling happily.

The sound of wind brushing against leaves,

The sound of water flowing through valleys,

If you entrust your empty heart to the sounds of nature,

It's so peaceful,

So serene,

So grateful,

Dreams will come true,

Otherwise, nature wouldn't have allowed me to dream in the first place.

As the girl sang, running through the mountains, a gentleman in a suit approached her. Carlos, noticing the gentleman, widened his eyes and pointed, whispering to Norman.

"Isn't that Kay? This time he's wearing a suit?"

Norman nodded.

"Perhaps it's a dual role, or maybe it's that music itself takes the form of a person."

"Ah.. I didn't know a single person could play multiple roles in opera. I thought it was something only small-scale plays did."

"It's rare, but it does happen. Especially in a genre that requires singing, it's quite demanding for one person to take on multiple roles."

As they resumed their conversation, the stage revealed Geon in a suit speaking to the girl, with the woman's voice hidden behind the curtain narrating.

"His name was Geoffrey. Having made a fortune running a car factory in Detroit, he watched me singing in the mountains for days. He came to our home and convinced my family to enroll me in a proper educational institution. Hearing the promise from a stranger willing to support my tuition and living expenses, my father allowed me to study with disbelief."

The woman's voice paused, slightly trembling.

"I only learned much later that the hidden meaning of the name Geoffrey was 'strong protector.' After receiving the scholarship, I visited his car factory, only to find it in a desolate desert with a few grass patches. No matter how much I searched, I couldn't find a wealthy man named Geoffrey in Detroit."

As Geon stood alone in a suit in the center of the stage, the woman's voice resumed.

"I am convinced that it was music itself that allowed me to study music."

Standing in the middle of the stage, Geon looked at the audience and smiled slyly.

>

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