Levi Elipha Cannot Sing: The Whereabouts of a Voice Left After the War - The Silent Diva

A spring afternoon. The sea of Laurentia carried the scent of salt through the open window and into the room. Levi Elipha sat before a microphone in the center of a small room lined with streaming equipment. Her fingertips trembled faintly on her lap. Pale silver hair swayed softly in the breeze from the sea. A white streak mixed into her bangs caught the afternoon light and glimmered. Today was the weekend. It was a streaming day. Several weeks had passed since the war ended. The people who had looked forward to the songs that flowed from this room were still waiting, unchanged. That fact weighed on Levi more heavily than anything. She gently touched her throat. What her fingertips found was an old scar that shone like a burn mark. The proof of that song—the one that had seared her vocal cords. The pointed tips of her ears—a trait of the demi-human—peeked through her silver hair as she bowed her head. Her sunset-orange irises reflected the black mesh of the microphone. Only her left pupil was split vertically. A remnant of monster blood. She pressed the button to begin the stream. Beyond the screen, waves of soundless noise spread outward. Levi drew a breath. She opened her chest and tried to make her throat vibrate. But only air passed through. A breath that would not become voice brushed faintly against the microphone. She moved her lips. As if singing, matching the melody of what once was, she continued a pantomime of shapes without sound. Comments began to flow from the bottom of the screen. "I've been waiting!" "I came again today!" "I love your songs, Levi-san." Something deep in her chest tightened. She softened the corners of her mouth just slightly and gave a small wave toward the camera. "Don't push yourself, okay?" "Don't rush. We'll wait forever." "Even if your voice doesn't come out, your song still reaches us." Each of those words sank into her chest like a soft blade. Kindness hurt the most. Levi clasped her fingers together on her lap and bit her lip. The people waiting for her song. The people who believed in her voice. To that expectation, the person she was now could give nothing back. The stream ended quietly. When she turned off the equipment, the room suddenly fell silent. From outside the window, the sounds of life in Laurentia flowed in. A ship's whistle sounding in the distance. The bustle of the market. The peculiar murmur of this port town, where the voices of monsters and humans mingled. The sound of the tide beat against the wharf in a steady rhythm. Levi picked up the microphone and wiped it carefully with a soft cloth. The silver body reflected the light from the window. A special microphone bestowed by the Tone Academy, designed to amplify voice-print magic. Her voice had once traveled through this small machine, crossing the barriers between races. Songs of healing. Songs of unity. Songs that gently warmed the hearts of all who heard them. Now it was nothing but a lump of iron. She returned the microphone to its stand and walked to the window. In this house along the shore, the salt breeze had slowly weathered the window frame. Levi rested her hands on the railing and gazed absently at the distant horizon. About twenty ships were docked in the harbor, their colorful flags swaying in the wind. On the wharf, scale-covered monster stevedores were shouting prices back and forth with human merchants. This town was a rare mixed-race city, even on the Alveria continent. Laurentia, belonging to the Central Free City Alliance, had humans, monsters, and demi-humans all living on the same cobblestones. The war had ended, but the cracks that remained ran deep. Even so, in this town—at least on the surface—different races lived side by side. Levi loved the atmosphere of this town. No—she *had* loved it. She could only think of it in the past tense now. (I have sung for this town.) She murmured in her heart. (A place where I, born between human and monster, belonging to neither world, found my first home. Song was what tied me here.) She put her hand to her throat again. The scar held no heat—just a faint unevenness on otherwise smooth skin. She left the window and stood before an old full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Her eyes met her own reflection. A body grown frail and breakable from the war. A loose, unbleached knit and a black skirt. Around her neck, an old blue stone pendant given to her by a monster youth who had been with her since childhood. Crow. The moment that name surfaced, a feeling that was neither pain nor relief spread through her chest. Before the mirror, Levi slowly touched her throat. Her fingertips traced the burn scar. The memory of that night surged in from beyond the sound of the tide. —The final battle. The sky was stained red, the earth shattered, and the cries of her comrades filled the battlefield. The last clash between humans and monsters. If either side retreated, they would lose everything. To protect her comrades, Levi sang. Voice-print magic. The power to imbue one's vocal cords with magical energy and work miracles through song. She used it to unleash her final song. A requiem of endings. A trump-card melody to end everything. That song did, indeed, end the battle. But the price was far too great. Some of the monsters who heard the song turned to stone on the spot. Their skin hardened to gray, their movements stopped, and they became statues while still alive. Some of the humans, even with their ears covered, had their minds shattered by the melody that would not stop ringing, and they went mad. Enemy and ally alike. Levi's vocal cords were burned by her own magic. The taste of blood rose from deep in her throat, and her voice, her song, vanished. As she collapsed, Crow silently caught her in his arms. His arms were trembling. She thought he might have been shouting something. But she could no longer hear. —Was that song truly the right thing to do? Levi asked the reflection in the mirror. A voiceless question swirled deep in her throat. (Who did I save?) (Who did I kill?) There was no answer. The girl beyond the mirror only stared back with a pale face. Then, deep in her throat, a faint heat ran through her. "...Ah." A fragment of voice slipped from her lips. Levi's eyes widened. That sound just now had certainly come from her throat. Hoarse, like a breath, and yet it was unmistakably the sound "ah." Her heart pounded like a bell. She timidly steadied her breathing and tried once more to speak. Her fingertips trembled. "Ah..." It wouldn't continue. Something was blocked deep in her throat. Her vocal cords, still burned, would not move. There was heat, but the sound would not take shape. (What was that just now?) (Is my voice coming back?) Hope and fear surged in at the same time. (If I can sing again—) (Will I hurt someone again?) (Will I turn someone to stone again?) She covered her throat with both hands. So hard her fingers dug in. Her voice might come back. That possibility terrified her more than anything. (I want to sing. I want to sing. But—) Tears spilled over. That night. Levi lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Outside the window, the sea breeze blew strongly at times, rattling the wooden frame. The heat of the day had already faded. The phone by her pillow buzzed briefly. She reached out and checked the screen. The sender was unknown. The display was blank. A single line had arrived. "I'll fix your voice for you." Levi caught her breath. Her fingertip stopped on the screen. She tapped to check the sender, but nothing appeared. The sender's information had been completely erased. (Who?) (How do they know my number?) Something cold crawled down her back. She clutched the phone to her chest and held her breath in the dark room. The sea breeze struck the window. Mixed with that sound, Levi heard it. A song. A very small melody, like a lullaby. Something was ringing deep in her throat. (No. This isn't my voice.) Levi sat up and put her hand to her throat. Her vocal cords were not vibrating. And yet, deep in her head, deep in her chest, the song resonated. She smelled a forest. The scent of deep trees. Soil, moss, and the night air. The Eastern Forest. The sanctuary guarded by monsters. The place where Sera's clan once lived. Levi knew it. This melody. In the petrified forest, monster mothers had once sung this lullaby to their children. The song of Sera's clan—the clan she had destroyed with her requiem of endings. (Why is it ringing inside me?) (The song of the people I killed—) Her chest felt like it would burst. Levi got out of bed and stood by the window. Beyond the sea, far to the east, she could see the shadow of dark mountains. The Void Mountains. The site of the former fierce battle. Beyond them lay the petrified forest. She listened to the melody deep in her throat. It was not her own voice. But it was certainly resonating within her. Someone's sorrow had become a song and was circulating through her body. (I know this song.) (I know it, and yet I cannot sing it.) Tears overflowed again. The next morning. Levi was operating her phone with trembling fingers. The number displayed on the screen was the Tone Academy's Laurentia branch. The local branch of the neutral organization that trained and managed voice-print magic users. Her former master, Eleanor, served as its branch head. She opened the reservation screen. Her fingers trembled. (My voice came back a little.) (But I don't know what that means.) (I want to sing. I want to sing. And yet—) She remembered yesterday's message. "I'll fix your voice for you." Those words from an unknown sender. (Someone is after my voice.) (Even so, I—) Levi pressed the reservation button. A small electronic tone sounded, and the screen displayed "Reservation complete." She clutched the phone to her chest and exhaled deeply. Outside the window, the morning light was dyeing the sea. A ship's whistle sounded in the distance. The bustle of the market was gradually growing louder. Levi closed her eyes. Deep in her throat, the lullaby was still ringing. (I want to take back my voice.) (But if that means hurting someone again—) She gripped the blue stone pendant at her neck. Crow's face surfaced in her mind. (Crow... what should I do?) There was still no answer. The sea breeze swayed the curtains.

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Episode 1

Name: Levi Elipha Cannot Sing: The Whereabouts of a Voice Left After the War
Author: Novelia

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