Chapter 69: Ayre (2)
Yeah, that melody’s borrowed. So what? What are you gonna do about it?
–George Frideric Handel
When Watson opened her door and came out, I braced myself, knowing the moment had come.
I had mentioned before that I would play my music for her someday, but it was early morning now.
Waking someone up when they’re already tired is a situation where it’s not surprising to get scolded.
But she said nothing.
She just listened to my song and performance, shedding tears silently.
“……”
This performance was not for Watson.
After crossing over to London Murim, I was so absorbed in Kung-Fu that I temporarily put down my instrument, but I had been practicing the violin for a long time and was confident in my skills. However, today’s performance was solely to prevent the 2nd stage side effects of the Renewal Lionheart Method from breaking and releasing its restraint.
I chose an oratorio aria1, rather than the medieval music or improvisations I usually enjoy studying, or a bright piece requiring great skill, for that reason.
Yet, the simple melody played in the early morning seemed to have left quite an impression on Watson.
Since Watson never usually discussed music or showed sensitivity to it, I could only be surprised.
According to my involuntary biases formed through long observation and experience, ladies of London Murim generally showed dramatic reactions to trivial matters.
In contrast, Watson tended not to display her emotions easily, perhaps due to her military service experience, unlike other women her age.
Therefore, witnessing her tears, I was gripped by a strange emotion.
In the entirety of my life spent in the world I originally lived in and the twenty-eight years of life spent in this world, I, Sherlock Holmes, wonder if I have ever moved someone to tears even once.
I can assert that this miraculous event was the first of its kind.
“That was a wonderful performance.”
Even Watson, with the most serious of expressions, offered me praise.
As John Watson did in a world where she didn’t exist.
“I’m glad if that was the case.”
It wasn’t my intention, but my mouth retorted with a blunt tone on its own.
Luckily, Watson seemed to think I was just being grumpy.
It was a strange occurrence.
I was secretly thrilled at the fact that my violin performance moved Watson to tears, feeling like dancing a sword dance, but why could I only manage such a rude response?
Upon careful consideration, it was a subconscious rejection.
A firm expression of intent that I wouldn’t allow the new person, Jane Watson, to completely replace the John Watson I remembered.
I did indeed accept the Watson I am currently with as a friend.
However, knowing that John Watson, Jane Watson’s twin brother, is alive somewhere in Europe, I couldn’t let go of his existence no matter what.
“Though, the singing was just so-so.”
It wasn’t really relevant, but Watson was only impressed by my performance, not by the singing, which seemed to be quite unsatisfactory.
I was fully aware that my singing wasn’t as good as my violin performance.
Nevertheless, there was a valid reason why I insisted on singing along to the melody of the aria.
“From now on, I’ll often rely on you, Holmes. I won’t be late for work because of nightmares on the days I have morning shifts.”
“…It was to overcome Papiyas, so please understand.”
Watson, who was chuckling as if teasing me, tilted her head, but I didn’t bother to explain what had happened.
“I feel a bit sorry to tell you this after waking you up, but I’m tired from staying up all night. I need to get some sleep before meeting the Minister.”
“What did you say?”
Watson looked at me incredulously, but I ignored her and got up from the window sill, entered the bedroom, and closed the door.
“…Good thing I was prepared in advance; it could have been a disaster.”
It was worth focusing on the performance even if it meant waking Watson from her deep sleep.
The bizarre auditory hallucinations echoing in my head are no longer heard.
When I closed my eyes and contemplated the Mind Palace, I saw the cover of the black book I had seen earlier was closed.
“I’m probably the only one suppressing the side effects of dark arts in such a brute-force way…”
Unless I eventually reach the level of detoxification like my master, I must use every means possible to prevent the inner demon sealed in the book from leaking out.
If what’s locked inside were to be released, I wouldn’t be able to handle the consequences alone.
To continue a stable life as a consulting detective, I must be thorough.
It’s a relief, once again, that I learned the violin.
And―
“We should be grateful that Handel naturalized to England.”
In works composed by a master of musical arts, the relation between the pitch and rhythm can cause special phenomena to react with internal energy.
As I mentioned to Watson earlier, the melody I played earlier, ‘O Lord, Whose Mercies Numberless’, also falls into this category.
This tune possesses the power of expelling Demonic energy and Papiyas, and within London Murim, a mysterious legend related to this song has been passed down.
On a day in May, when Handel was engrossed in Breath Control, he was inspired by a holy inspiration that descended from the heavens, which led him to conceive the oratorio “Saul”.
Hiding in a cave, he began composing in isolation, meticulously carving the score onto a slate with a pen, reciting the Book of Samuel with each note he engraved, and bowing towards the holy land three times.
Handel, who abstained from eating and focused solely on composing, only emerged from the cave after forty days, with his right hand holding the pen and his knees covered in blood.
For a while, a bright radiance emanated from his face, leading many to mistakenly believe he was an angel descended from heaven.
Was Handel’s sincere devotion what moved the heart of the Heavenly Father, or was it a miracle wrought by his talent and training?
Whatever the reason, the simple melody became imbued with the power to vanquish evil and uphold justice, its mystique was beyond words.
By not only playing the melody on an instrument but also singing the chant, I aimed to create a synergy by resonating the sound energy expressed through my fingertips with the sound energy expressed through my breath.
As expected, I succeeded in calming Papiyas by borrowing the spirituality embedded in the song.
“To succeed at once. I am frightened by my own talent.”
Logically, this is a harmony that cannot be achieved unless one is a demon-exorcising priest of the Zion Clan or an inquisitor who has cultivated the purest power to confront demons.
Even if I suppress the side effects, the fact that I am a Demonic arts user does not change.
If I try to borrow the power of the Zion Clan martial artists, the Vatican’s hounds will come to kill me.
To avoid getting into a troublesome situation, I must somehow solve this problem with my own strength in the future.
In that regard, Handel’s Aria, which has the ability to calm Papiyas without special preparation, will continue to be of great help to me.
If there is an instrument imbued with spirituality by the touch of a master, it would be much easier to perform sound arts.
‘I might be able to deceive or silence Lestrade and the other inspectors…’
Even when facing a formidable opponent, it is only right to refrain from using Demonic arts in front of others, like Timothy Young.
Just as I have done so far, and will continue to do in the future.
Considering the fact that Zion Clan martial artists would try to kill anyone who uses Demonic arts, I must act as if I only practice Orthodox Kung-Fu, at least where their eyes are watching.
Even though this is England, outside the Catholic sphere of influence.
Above all, if I were cornered and had to use Demonic arts, the calmed Papiyas might start rampaging again.
Therefore, in order not to use Demonic arts as much as possible, I must consume even stronger elixirs to enhance my internal energy, and continuously synchronize the techniques and Kung-Fu in my Mind Palace with my mind.
-Cough!
“…I overexerted myself excessively from earlier.”
The internal injury I sustained from carelessly practicing the Jezail Sword Technique’s ultimate move at dawn without proper preparation has not yet healed.
I briefly finished regulating my energy and lay back on the bed.
Watson, perhaps upset by the suggestion of waking someone else’s sleep and then going to rest alone, went downstairs to the first floor, leaving me alone to try to get some sleep.
But then―
-Squeak.
A strange noise came from under the bed.
Wondering what was going on, I pulled out the glass-domed pot hidden under the mattress, and saw the White Worm I occasionally fed with poison glowing faintly.
“This is… What on earth….”
The larva was rhythmically twisting its body as if intoxicated, knocking its head against the glass dome.
“Is it reacting to the sound art?”
It was hard to make a quick judgment, but the energy emitted by the White Worm was much stronger than when I observed it after feeding it the poison used in the recent Debutante Ball murder case.
I knew this insect was a spiritual creature boasted by the Chenzhou Yan Clan, and if the environment and feed were controlled, it would provide various beneficial yields to its owner.
But to think it would absorb even the auspicious energy of sound arts.
Entomology isn’t my specialty, but sensing something unusual was about to happen, I carelessly opened the glass dome.
*-Thud! *
A round bead the size of the insect’s head emerged from a hole in its back.
A spiritual pill, perfectly shaped like a sphere, as if sculpted from colorful marble.
It looked completely different from the custom-made antidote I usually had it spit out after feeding it poison.
‘…I should pay a visit to Yan soon.’
I put the unidentified object in my pocket and returned the pot under the bed.
It seemed I would need to wait a bit longer to uncover the identity of the unexpected yield.
When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky.
Watson is scheduled to go to work in the afternoon today.
After having lunch together, we can leisurely leave the boarding house and still not be late for the appointment with the Minister.
I suppose Mrs. Hudson also woke up to the sound of the violin as I saw her go downstairs right after I entered the bedroom earlier.
I have a feeling that I will be tormented by the nagging of Mrs. Hudson and Watson throughout lunch.
Of course, I know well enough that someone who plays the violin and sings from 6:20 a.m. can’t be considered a good lodger.
Even though I pay more than enough boarding fees and had unavoidable circumstances.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that it is embarrassing to be reprimanded by someone at this age.
However, I have hundreds of reasons not to skip meals.
For example, protecting the lives of Watson and Mrs. Hudson from danger.
“…Here it is.”
I took out two medicine bottles from the nightstand drawer and then went downstairs.
- TL/N: An oratorio aria is a solo song in a large-scale vocal composition called an oratorio. Oratorios are dramatic musical compositions that are often based on religious themes. They are usually performed in concert halls and churches ️