The main hall is packed with people, yet there is no music to be heard. A peculiar scene indeed.
Fortunately, the guests don't seem to mind. There is no stage in the world that offers a performance like this one.
Barcarola: Ms. Regulus, as I'm sure you understand, there's a great deal of effort involved in creating a concerto, from the initial spark of inspiration to the careful arrangement of the music to the skill required to play it.
Barcarola: The fact that any concerto has ever been performed at all is nothing short of a miracle!
Barcarola's tone is solemn, like a steadily intensifying march.
Barcarola: As musical director, it is my duty to select the perfect repertoire to bring delight to every listener.
Barcarola: Then, the esteemed passengers of the "Free Breeze" can enjoy their dessert and wine with the finest musical accompaniment.
Regulus: Oh, you can't be serious. Where's the fun in just sitting there and listening?
Regulus: I promise you, this lot have had more than enough lazy jazz and swooning piano to last a lifetime!
Regulus: We need to shake things up—make this voyage the greatest of the century!
Regulus: How about some '60s rock?
Regulus: And wouldn't you know it? This visionary former captain has a record player right here with her!
She holds a stack of records high in the air.
Regulus: Alright, people! Let me hear you cheer!
Regulus: Music is freedom! It should stir the soul, anytime, anywhere!
Barcarola: Stop, Regulus! I'm the musician here, not you!
Barcarola's cheeks flush red.
The audience claps, amused by the antics on stage. A small flower-adorned girl sits discreetly among them.
Fatutu: These outsiders seem so full of life.
Fatutu: They're nothing like what Ms. Grace described, "full of hatred and hostility."
Fatutu remains alert, her eyes fixed on the stage.
Barcarola: This is my performance! If you really must share your music with us, then, perhaps you should go to the captain and apply to be a cruise musician like me!
Regulus: With all due respect, Ms. Barcarola.
Regulus: The point I'm trying to make ...
Regulus: ... is that only a DJ knows what the crowd really wants!
Before Barcarola can protest anymore, the cunning little lion presses the play button on the record player.
In a moment, all the lights on the ship have gone out. Regulus had no idea her record player could produce such effects.
Regulus: Huh?
Regulus: Did I just shoot lightning bolts from my fingertips?
Barcarola: Of course not!
Barcarola finally manages to wrest the microphone from Regulus's hand, but a far more pressing issue than the content of the concert now faces them.
Amid the darkness, discontent quickly arises.
Guest I: Goddamn! Who's stepping on my brand-new leather shoes?!
Guest I: Will you please watch yourself?!
Guest II: I was just about to say the same thing! Let go of my jacket, you moron!
Guest III: Could you all keep it down? I'm going deaf here!
Guest III: Oh, no! My wine! And the cheese platter!
The clamor of irritated voices quickly fills the space.
Barcarola: This could turn to total chaos before long. No, I can't let that happen!
Barcarola: I must go check on the master switch.
Barcarola pushes through the crowd as she carves a path to the power room.
Regulus: Hey! Ms. Barcarola!
Barcarola: Uh. Please let me through, Ms. Elisabeth.
Unfortunately, the guests can't tell a musician from a mechanic through the darkness.
Regulus: Barcarola! Where are you going?!
Regulus: Let me give you a hand!
COMBAT
Regulus: Come on! There aren't as many of them this way!
Barcarola: Unbelievable. It's like you're an escape artist or something!
Regulus: Uh. I'll take that as a compliment.
Barcarola: It is a compliment! Thank you so much, Ms. Regulus.
A narrow path appears, and Barcarola unceremoniously pushes forward with all her might.
But it seems the surprises for today are far from coming to an end.
Barcarola: Ah!
???: ...!
A faint light flickers across Barcarola's vision, then quickly falls to the ground.
Barcarola: What was that?
A piece of rough bark twisted into the shape of a lampshade, with a compass-like root burning warmly inside, shines through the darkness.
Selone: Tutu. Are you okay?
Fatutu: I'm fine. How's the Sea Mother's Eye?
Selone: Solid as ever, of course. It takes more than a few knocks to damage Nukutai craftsmanship!
Toa: sneer I knew getting too close to those oafs would bring trouble.
Barcarola: Oafs?
Barcarola: Are you calling me stupid?!
Before the situation can escalate any further, Barcarola picks up the oddly shaped lamp.
She is quickly basked in its glow.
Barcarola: What's this?
Toa: Hah! What did I say? Of course you have no idea what this is.
Fatutu: We form palm bark into lampshades about the size of a coconut, then tie fat-soaked compass grass inside.
Fatutu: We call it Sea Mother's Eye. Every Nukutai knows how to make one.
Toa: They're way better than those noisy, buzzing lightbulbs!
Toa: Wait, why are we even telling her this?
Fatutu: Shh.
Before he can say another word, Fatutu hastily pulls Toa aside.
Fatutu: We need to lower their guard.
Toa: Huh?
Toa eyes Fatutu suspiciously.
Fatutu: So that we can earn their trust.
Fatutu: If we don't understand our enemies, how can we help Ms. Grace with her mission and rebuild our home?
Toa: Oh ...
Fatutu: Besides, we can't just leave them to shout and run around! It'll disturb our people's rest!
Toa finally breathes a sigh of relief.
Fatutu: Trust me. That girl will thank us for this later.
Fatutu: And then, we can get all the information we need from her!
Toa: Then, we should make more Sea Mother's Eyes and hand them out to the outsiders!
Fatutu: Now you've got it.
Selone: By the waves, Tutu, you really are clever! No wonder the elders always listen to you.
Despite this praise, Fatutu turns away, a quiet look of doubt on her face.
Fatutu: I ...
Fatutu: Is this really the right thing to do?
Regardless, the sound of bark scraping grows as her people get to work.
One by one, the Sea Mother's Eyes light up.
They are passed through rough and soft hands alike, illuminating bronze skin, flax-colored irises, and chestnut hair.
As the warm lights make their way through the crowd, the clamor subsides. No more panicked shouts, no more arguments, only a unique harmony.
Crew Member I: What peculiar little things. Reminds me of my days on the fishing boat. I always loved spotting the lighthouse on our way back. These look just like it.
Guest I: The craftsmanship is remarkable. You'd be hard-pressed to find something of this standard in a factory these days.
Crew Member II: They remind me of the things my grandma and I used to make when I was little.
Crew Member II: Haha, she could even carve a whistle out of a parsnip!
Fatutu: ...
Fatutu: They're sharing food and stories, just like we do on bonfire nights.
Fatutu glances at her fellow Nukutai. Relived memories and longing are etched into their faces.
Fatutu: I'm getting more and more confused by Ms. Grace's words.
The guests lean on one another, chatting happily under the warm glow of the lamps.
Guest II: Ms. Barcarola.
The timid voice of a child reaches Barcarola's ears.
Guest II: I ... I wanna go home.
Barcarola: ...
The scene before her is a mess. This is certainly no time for a symphony performance.
Among the crowd, she sees Regulus shaking her head.
Barcarola: Is this one of the changes I must make to truly embrace music?
Barcarola: ♪ ...
A single note drifts from her Crackling Box.
Then, a harmonious melody of joyful, lively, and contrasting sounds.
Regulus: Woah!!
Their joy illuminated by the lamps, the guests start to clap along.
Broadcast: Attention, passengers!
Broadcast: The "Free Breeze" is currently experiencing a power outage due to a fuse blown by a cargo leak in the lower deck. We ask that everyone remain calm.
Broadcast: We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. To make your wait more comfortable, we'll be offering unlimited ice cream shortly.
Broadcast: Additionally, since we're approaching the habitat of the Serres, we're expecting an increase in turbulence and noise as we work to ward them off.
Broadcast: We appreciate your understanding.
Broadcast: ...
The hall brightens again, and the guests bid one another farewell, the lamps still tightly held in their hands.
Barcarola exhales deeply as Regulus approaches her, a smug look on her face.
Regulus: See? What did I tell you?
Regulus: Music works wonders, anytime, anywhere!
Barcarola: You were right, Ms. Regulus.
Regulus: You owe me one now. So, how about a little reciprocity?
She rubs her fingers together mischievously.
Regulus: Say, letting me have a rock session on the ship?
Barcarola: Do you promise you won't cause any trouble?
Regulus: Cross my heart!
Barcarola: Alright, you can do it. But—
Permission granted, Regulus doesn't wait to hear her extra condition. She's already dashed off, speaking as she goes.
Regulus: Don't forget to thank the girl who made the lamp!
Barcarola: ...
Barcarola: As if I need you to remind me! I'll have you know I was just about to head over to her.
Barcarola gently paces over to the darkened corner that has become the gathering place of the Nukutai.
Toa: ...!
Toa: Tutu was right! The stupid girl's back!
Selone: Shh!
Barcarola: ...?
Barcarola: I must say I don't appreciate being called an "oaf" or "stupid."
Barcarola: But I would like to thank you for your help back there.
Toa: What?
Barcarola: On behalf of the whole crew, you have our respect.
Toa: Oh. Uh, what do we do now?
Toa: Tutu never said they'd be so friendly.
The bewildered islanders exchange glances.
Selone: Tutu?
Selone: Where did she go?