May you be forever inquisitive in nature. ~ typical Muse worshipper saying

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As legend has it, one of the cloud Arenai creatures played a lyre gifted to her by The Curious Muse themself. Rosissa. Rosissa created a song for the deity to praise them and thank them for her musical ability. The Muse delighted in the melody and so crafted a lyre of rare red rose gold. The strings she made of thinned metal stolen from the night fae. It was as unique as Rosissa’s abilities.

The Arenai traveled the rather small world of Kairas, playing to the delight of her audiences from region to region. Her harmonies soothed angry hearts, calmed stressed minds, and delighted the bored. The lyre am amplified each song, illustrating the music as Rosissa played. Vignettes depicting the melody as playful animals or entwined lovers danced in soft glowing swirls of amber and jade all around her.

The people loved it. They craved her songs and asked for her to come to their region, their town, and their home often. She did so well that she amassed followers who showered her with adoration and tokens of their affection. Rosissa embraced the attention, basking in it, playing more and more. Crowds came to her, for she could not travel quick enough to their liking. She found splendid success and renown and perhaps forgot herself when praising herself for her ability, a time or two.

Someone noticed. Sibling to The Curious Muse, The Wild was upset to not hear a thanks to their sibling, show after show. The Wild thought more adoration and love should go to The Muse rather than Rosissa. Although not wanting to anger their sibling, The Wild wanted to punish Rosissa for not giving more credit for her success. For not entreating her new followers to adore The Muse more than herself. A being of chaotic temperament, it took mere moments for The Wild’s decision to impact Rosissa. The lyre changed from its sunset luminescence color to a somber stormy sky in her hands.

Now when Rosissa played, instead of people following and enjoying her melodies, they drifted away. While the music continued to ring beautifully to Rosissa’s ears, and the moving art still quite entrancing to her eyes something about the performance caused melancholy in her audiences. Guilt and misery overcame them, leaving all she played for in tears. Over time, she found herself very much alone with the lyre. Only her gifts to keep her company. She put the instrument aside, accepting fate’s fickle ways, and never played it again.

Spread

Many in the Curious Woods and Laughing Mountains regions have heard of this legend. Although no one has ever seen the lyre (no one living now at least) it is easy for many people to believe that one sibling would do what they think is best for the other when it comes to the deities.

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