84
83
I immediately moved on to John’s bright orange string. It was easier to hear now that I
knew I could do it. His too was a guitar and it definitely was in tune with his brother’s
sound. It was just a little more upbeat than Phil’s. They felt perfectly suited and the
more I heard him the more I wanted to hear him. It was difficult to pull out of listening
to it. I felt tired and drained from the effort. I refocused and prepared to listen to Kim.
It was immediate and smack bang in the middle of my ears as clear and loud as if it were
right in front of me. I had heard this instrument in school when our music
teacher
showed us a series of videos on string instruments. It was a harp. From what I could
remember it was a horrifically complicated thing that I could not even begin to
understand. As for the tune, well it was Kim, simply magnificent and beautiful and just
warm and inviting. I couldn’t resist falling into it.
I don’t know how long I was lost for but I felt Suriyan’s mental hand grab the back of my
head and yank me out of it. “With time and exposure you will desensitise yourself to the
exquisite beauty
of our sounds so that you may make use of their hidden treasures,” he
said. I felt more drained now and was particularly sleepy.
“You have all heard each other and you are paying for it with fatigue. Hold on for a while
longer, we have two more activities to complete and then you may go rest. I want you
now to feel from behind you your own energy string, find it and bring it to the front,
above the strings of each of your friends, focus.”
I did as instructed and found my string to be a dense black colour. It looked like tar and
was smooth and shiny. I brought it above the three other strings I was holding. They
were all very still now and a lot easier to handle.
“Now listen to your sound. Don’t worry about getting lost in it, that won’t happen,” we
were instructed.