Random stories

Music was never to be played with. Never. You weren't to mess around with a few notes, or trill a line on the piano. True, experimentation happened. But it was regulated; heavily controlled. Only a very few special people were allowed instruments. I, however, managed to find a banjo in the junkyard. It was beaten up, the strings weren't even attached, but it was an instrument. Which meant music. I was very cautious at first, only using the approved songs. The ones we knew would heal, calm storms, even teleport. It was magical.

But not just because of the effects. Oh, those were wonderful enough, but the beauty of the music was more. It rose and fell as if it had a life and heart of its own. I couldn't resist one day, trying a new tune. One that had run through my head since I was a child. One that I used to hum to myself when working in the junkyard. And one that was strictly un-sanctioned. Using only my fingers, I picked at the restored strings, hearing the music take shape. Carefully, I watched around the cleared space where I practiced. What new spell, what new effect would this song have? I held my breath.

Nothing.

Nothing happened. No birds fell out of the sky, no pieces of junk moved on their own, the heavens stayed green and calm, no weather to be seen. But every piece of music had a magical effect, that had been proven with Lisette's Third Law. I felt a spike of disappointment. Maybe it was too mundane. Maybe it just affected the walking patterns of ants. After all, it was my first song, maybe it needed to be different, bigger, and more impressive. I walked back to my office, idly strumming the tune. Regardless of the magic effects, it was still quite pretty.

There was a man standing there, probably waiting for me. Junkyards weren't really that popular these days, but some people still enjoyed coming and picking through the trash, for buried treasure. Of course, none of them had ever found a banjo. Too late, I forgot to change the song.

The man stared at me, his eyes growing large.

"Where, did you get that? That's an instrument." His voice didn't sound angry, but I couldn't take the risk. My fingers moved into the familiar pattern of a calming song.

"Wait! Wait, I'm not going to report you! In fact, I've found something of my own..." I froze. He'd found something? Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a harmonica. "I've just been too afraid to play anything. After all, there isn't much you can do on a harmonica, that doesn't affect yourself. But if you wouldn't mind..." He trailed off, but I knew what he was asking. I nodded, plucking out the beginning notes of a wakefulness spell. It was well known that harmonicas had a soothing effect.

He began playing, a well-known tune. Unconsciously, I started picking my own tune, weaving it into his. And again, nothing happened. The music swelled, curled and fell to its finish. And we stood there unchanged. No sleepiness on his part, or mine. Something in my mind turned around. My tune did do something. It negated magic.

It's been years since my discovery. Years since I got it sanctioned. I don't run a junkyard anymore. I run a music school. All around me, the music flows once, rising into the air like a living thing. Under it all, is my little banjo tune. Making sure no accidental magic happens. Making sure people can once again enjoy the music. Making music safe. Making it accessible. And making the music...sing.

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Submitted by Mooses_little_sister on Sat, Jul 16, 2022 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

Music has the power to perform miracles. Summon storms, heal wounds, teleport you to any location, the possibilities seem endless. All it takes is experimentation with different musical notes and instruments. You have discovered a tune on your banjo that does something remarkable, and strange.