Harp's Magic

Another from that old archive.

Today was an anniversary, of sorts. Twenty years ago today, in that clearing, you met him. You still weren't sure who or even what he was. Smallish (less than 60 cm), greenish (clothes as well as skin) and strange (pointed ears, clothes that looked like something out of a fairy tale). You'd surprised him as he struggled desperately to rescue a female version of himself from beneath a log. You used your large size and relatively great strength to raise the log well enough for him to pull himself to safety. He, in gratitude, asked you what you wished for. Without hesitation, you asked to be a world class harper, to be up on the stage. He smiled, and flew upward to touch, momentarily, your forehead. Such skill takes much, he'd said. Much practice and much personal time. Would you sacrifice all that is needed to become such a harper? Of course you replied yes. Eagerly and without reservation. He flew off, leaving his injured companion. A few minutes later, he returned bearing a golden pin in the shape of a harp. Find the best harp you are able, he instructed. Stand before the harp, with your back to the front column. Rub the pin and attach the pin to your clothing. The spell will activate and you'll find yourself the harper of your dreams. If you should ever desire the spell be broken, snap the pin asunder.

You searched: in music instrument stores, in concert halls, in repair shops. There was nothing that looked like your mental image of the perfect harp. Then, two years after your fateful meeting, you found your harp in a small run down pawn shop. You stood before the harp as instructed and began to rub the pin. A strange green glow surrounded the pin and swiftly spread to surround you once the pin had been attached to your clothing. In a daze, you bought the harp and had it delivered to your small apartment.

That night you dreamed you were again standing before the harp, your back to the front column. In your dream, your slowly stepped back until you felt the harp touch your back and merge with your back. The dream faded slowly. It had been no dream, though. When the cold light of dawn touched you, you found yourself upright and fused to your harp at hips and shoulders. Whatever music you thought to play, you could play. With such expressiveness and emotion that you soon found yourself performing with orchestras worldwide.

Not all was perfect, though. You had no way of moving about. You eventually bought a van and hired a driver but it wasn't the same as doing it yourself. After several years, the life of a touring celebrity became somewhat jaded. You spent less and less time enjoying the wealth you'd amassed and more and more time standing alone in a hotel room practicing your art. Your skill soon was the envy of the world. After all, what other harper could play two harps at the same time?

So here you were, on stage, dressed by a costumer and ready to perform again. You were that world class harper the little elf (or gnome or whatever he was) had promised. And you definitely weren't happy. Maybe now was the time, the time to snap the spell and get on with a more normal life. Reaching down, you slid the pin from the satin belt and, carefully taking the pin, you broke it in half.  To find yourself holding an intact pin, in a forest glade, with nothing left but the log, your footprints in the forest mud and faint laughter in the distance.