Island Music

A girl named Lydia wanted to become an artist. She desired to express the world within her, so she tried drawing, painting, writing a novel, and playing an instrument. Unfortunately, she enjoyed none of them. Her mentor reassured her that she would find her calling, and he was right, but it was quite different.

Rather than make art from scratch, Lydia cut out the parts that spoke to her from other artworks, repurposed them into a single piece, and put it on display in a gallery. Some visitors cast it no more than a glance. A few found it interesting. Others who could sense the origins within a piece, like her mentor, were aghast. The mentor destroyed Lydia’s work, making her cry, and quickly showed her out.

“Stop crying!” her mentor said. “You must learn that a true artist never takes from other artists. A true artist is not a thief! Do you wish to be sent to the island, where its monster will chop you up, devour all your bits, and spit them out into something horrendous?”

“No!” Lydia said. “I’m sorry!”

“Then promise me you will never do that again,” her mentor said. “Promise me you will create art from your soul.”

“I promise,” Lydia said.

When she returned home, Lydia practiced drawing, painting, writing a novel, and playing an instrument, but she still could not find joy in any of them. When she inquired her mentor, he told her that suffering was required to make great art, and that there were no shortcuts. But Lydia didn’t want to suffer. As much as she wanted to find her place among the artists, she wasn’t willing to do so much lengthy, crushing work. Finally, one night, she resigned to the fact that she simply wasn’t meant to become an artist, and that the world within her was meant to die.

That same night, there bloomed a lovely song that roused Lydia from sleep, a music of otherworldly beauty outside her bedroom window. It seemed to hook into her soul and pull her in, luring her out of the house, and it took her to the edge of the land, where earth met sea.

The song was coming from the island.

Lydia remembered her mentor’s warning and the promise she’d made. Having been lured away from her home by the monster should’ve filled her with terror. Yet Lydia had no fear, only a profound love for the music being played.

Nearby was a boat and paddle, and Lydia pushed the boat into the water and climbed in, taking the paddle. Lydia rowed and rowed through the calm sea until she reached her destination.

From afar, the island looked like any other land, with trees and plants and the trilling of nocturnal insects, but as Lydia studied and listened closely, everything grew less natural, as if it were all an imitation. Yet Lydia was more fascinated than disturbed. She didn’t want to waste any time, however, so she proceeded to follow the song inside a cave that resembled the jaws of a beast.

Lydia could not see into the inky abyss ahead of her. It looked like it would swallow her whole. She assumed it was a sign to go no further, and she remained where she stood, enjoying the music until it faded away and left her in silence.

“Hello?” Lydia said. “Why did you stop? I very much loved what you were playing. It spoke to me in a way other music hasn’t.”

A voice emerged from the darkness, neither male nor female, asking one question that echoed off the cave walls:

“Is that so?”

Anyone would have been terrified, but Lydia loved the music too much to be afraid.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I would like to keep listening.”

A tiny light poked a hole in the dark, and it grew into a solid, glowing orb that could fit in one’s palm.

“Take it,” the voice said.

Lydia approached the orb, and she reached out and took it with both hands. From the orb flowed another song that caressed her soul, and she smiled with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said.

Lydia returned home with the orb and hid it from her mentor. Instead, she showed her family and a couple friends. They were amazed by the musical sphere and asked where she’d found it, but Lydia knew better than to tell them the truth. Moved by the beauty and power of its music, she looked for someone who would reproduce a song with their own voice and instruments. Someone who would be inspired enough.

When she found a singer, Lydia let them listen, and when the song was finished, she asked, “Can you sing the same words for me?”

“Sure,” the singer said, “for a price.”

Unfortunately, the price was too high, and Lydia continued her search until she found an instrumentalist. She let them listen to the orb’s song, and when it was finished, she asked, “Can you make the same sounds for me?”

The instrumentalist did not answer, for they’d sensed the truth behind the sphere’s origins and were too horrified to respond with anything but, “Monster!”

Word spread like wildfire among the people, and Lydia was driven to the edge of the land. With every threat and insult cast at her, Lydia changed: her hair fell out, her joints stiffened, her eyes crystalized, her skin hardened, her heart stopped beating, and her voice lost all life. Struggling to reach the boat, she collapsed and dropped the orb. People laughed and jeered as she dragged herself away.

Then the orb sang, and the people screamed and fled.

Recovering enough strength, Lydia managed to reach the boat, and she lifted herself in and paddled away, taking longer to arrive at the island and revisit the cave.

“I’m so sorry,” she told the monster. “I don’t have the orb. I can’t go home. Nobody wants me. I don’t want to live anymore.”

The abyss gave no response. Lydia wanted to cry, but her eyes could shed no tears.

“Please,” she begged, the pain too great. “End my life!”

“Stop,” the monster ordered. Lydia didn’t dare speak until the voice asked, “How would you like to see me?”

“What do you mean?” Lydia said. “You are a monster, aren’t you?”

The monster chuckled. “I am whatever you wish me to be.”

“What?” Lydia said. “You mean, you could be a handsome prince?”

“Indeed,” the monster said.

Lydia thought hard about this. Then she said, “Okay. A handsome prince, it is.”

Eyes closed, Lydia waited to be slain by a sword before being devoured. No violence was brought down upon her.

Lydia opened her eyes. Kneeling before her was the most handsome prince she’d ever seen. He took her hand and planted a kiss on it, and her heart throbbed to life—her hair grew back, her skin softened, her joints loosened, and her eyes welled with tears.

The prince smiled and wiped her tears away, and he helped her to her feet.

“Shall we acquaint ourselves with the rest of our kingdom?” he said.

“Our kingdom?” Lydia said.

“Yes,” the prince said. “A kingdom we will create, mine as well as yours.”

Together, they transformed the island into a world of Lydia’s dreams, with the places and people that had once been limited to her imagination. The prince listened to her and did most of the grunt work, but he never complained, nor did he try to keep her tethered to the castle. Lydia was free to roam the land and interact with anyone and anything. Their love was collaborative, reflective, and without strings. He could also change his form and become a princess, and he preferred neither one or the other.

Lydia didn’t know why the people from her homeland hated the “monster.” She hadn’t witnessed him commit any of the monstrous acts they’d claimed. Sometimes he turned into a small flying creature and spied on the land, but he returned with nothing except more intelligence that assisted him in the kingdom’s progress. This had always been the so-called monster’s way.

One day, some people from Lydia’s homeland visited the kingdom—not to fight, but to discover the truth. The prince didn’t mind. In fact, he was perfectly fine with creating islands for everyone, as they all wanted imagined paradises of their own, and he shared his power and knowledge with them so that they could continue without him.

From a distance, Lydia’s homeland appeared to erect tall, solid walls around it, preventing anyone from entering or leaving. She thought about the people who would be born there, people like her who found art beyond themselves, people who would never fit in. The prince gave her no argument, granting her the ability to turn into a small flying creature like him. Lydia made it her mission to take away those who yearned to be, shrinking them down and letting them ride on her back to the kingdom, and the prince made islands for them as he had for the others, sharing no less of his power or knowledge.