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Sep. 19th, 2007 09:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
myeneStory: The Maestro
Raiting: G
Fawkes/Historical Charter, Fawkes/AD, Fawkes/contemporary charter
Summary: The Phoenix we knew as Fawkes and three of his masters.
Muggles are able to see some of the magical creatures in our world (dragons, unicorns, etc), and be able to feel the presence of less familiar ones. But of all the magical creatures in our world, only two can be bound (i.e. familiars) to Muggles. One of which was the recently confirmed Crumple-Horned Snorkacks (CHS), which apparently will only attach themselves to Muggle fantasy authors, hence why Muggles get magic right sometimes. The other is the Phoenix. Like the CHS, it attaches itself to an artist but unlike the CHS, a Phoenix will only attach themselves to singers, composers or musicians.
The CHS is a capricious creature who doesn’t form any permanent attachment to authors. The Phoenix, on the other hand, bonds for life with Wizards or Muggles, only leaving at the death of its bonded. They are attracted to strong emotions. Some prefer sorrow and others joy. The song a Phoenix sings conveys the form of emotion they are attracted to.
The only known exception the Phoenix rules of attraction is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. No one knows why this exception was made and if Dumbledore knew he never told.
Italy, 1924
The Phoenix has been called many things in its life. His last bonded had called him ‘Song Bird’. The last bonded had been a Muggle who could never see him but could hear the Phoenix ’s tenor voice. The Phoenix sang often to its Muggle, and the man noted the songs down, using them in his masterpieces. For many years they did this, but as his Muggle’s life came to an end the Phoenix sang its soul-song. It was a song of sadness, a song that conveyed the fault of ego. A song that told that ego would doom us if we did not crush it. For that was the emotion that attracted the Phoenix , the time when we realize our ego will defeat us, unless we defeat it.
The Muggle called that song Nessun dorma. He then laid down his pen, and wrote no more.
Germany, 1945
The Phoenix had been alone many years. He had encountered many composers and singers, even a few musicians, but none of them quite sounded right to his soul song. Some were far too egotistical, others felt they had so little self worth they killed themselves with drugs and alcohol.
Some the Phoenix found were even locked in strange cages with many other humans. So many were locked away in the cages they did not have enough food. It was as if the other humans wanted to preserve the artistic ones but then decided to let them rot away. The ones in the strange cadges were so filled with fear and despair their souls had been crushed. The Phoenix feared that the caged humans would never make art again and wanted to help but was driven off by the horror. As he flew over Germany, he saw many signs of a great Muggle battle. Distressed, he started to turn away, to leave the area of death but as he turned he saw a strange sight in all this Muggle chaos.......a magical battle being waged.
Landing he watched the two men fighting. One had long auburn hair, the other short blond hair. They threw curses at each other. Both possessed great arrogance that the Phoenix could almost taste. The auburn one was coming to terms with his arrogance, while the blond one still believed in it.
‘Maybe this is the one,’ The Phoenix thought hopefully. Suddenly the two began to yell at each other. The Phoenix listened closely.
“We were fools Gellert! ‘For the greater good’ doesn’t give us the right to take away the freedom of others. It doesn’t give us the right to kill them!” The auburn one said.
“Nonsense, we are stronger, smarter, better in every way! It is we who should rule, not the weak wizards or the foolish Muggles!” The blond one shouted back, almost foaming at the mouth with rage.
The Phoenix could tell that the auburn haired man was losing his arrogance and becoming aware that he must defeat himself to triumph. He was not an artist of any kind, but somehow it didn’t matter, he was the one. The Phoenix flew to the auburn haired wizard, singing his song, lending the wizard the strength needed to defeat the other.
The battle ended. As the magic settled, the auburn haired wizard looked to its bonded. “Hello. Thank you. Who is your bonded? He must be a true artist for you to be so powerful.” He asked curiously
‘Humans!’ The Phoenix thought with a sigh. ‘Doesn’t he realize what’s right in front of him?’
Scotland, 1997
His human had died. He flew over the pristine marble tomb that would house his human for all eternity and sang his soul song then the Phoenix left, it was time to find his new master.
He had thought it would be the young boy, the one who had a soul hidden in him. He was not an artist, but neither was his old bonded. But the Phoenix felt no pull from him. Nor was it the fallen man, the one whose heart was forever with the doe girl. He may not have been an artist with a melody but with his liquids and plants he was truly a master. It was not the tartan woman who played the Mountain Dulcimer, or the bushy haired girl who sang in her church choir (bushy hair girl already had the demon cat that had tried to eat the Phoenix once anyway). So on he flew..... ....out over the water and over the land. Returning to where his first bonded, a Muggle (before the auburn... now white... haired wizard was from) had lived..
An excerpt form the New and Improved Quibbler Guide to Magical Animals, 2049 edition by Aquarius Lovegood-Scamander:
The reason the Crumple-Horned Snorkack and the Phoenix are attracted to Muggles as well as magicals is because both creatures are in fact born from Muggles. I do not mean that Muggles literally give birth to them as some of my detractors (like my no good untalented narrow minded brother) seem to think. I mean, when certain Muggles die their essence is reborn as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or a Phoenix. That is why we have never seen a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or a Phoenix mate, even thou they have two distinct genders. A Crumple-Horned Snorkack is born when a great Muggle writer, one with true insight and vision, dies. A Phoenix is born when a Muggle, who is able to sing/write/play his or her soul into the music they perform, dies.
The reason the Phoenix can bond to magical and Muggle when the Crumple-Horned Snorkack can’t is because the Muggle that a Phoenix is born from is Half-magical. That is not to say that he or she is a Half-blood wizard. Being a Half-magical Muggle is somewhat like being a squib. Both can feel the magic around them and can almost touch it. The difference between a squib and a Half-magical Muggle is that the Half-magical Muggle can do magic, but only in the form of art.
Italy, 2002
Again the Phoenix had trouble finding his bonded. Perhaps because of its unique song. It was only in that moment when a human realized that they must defeat their ego that the Phoenix could attach to them. So onwards he flew.
As he flew over a small town, the Phoenix heard something. It was wonderful, beautiful, it almost made the Phoenix cry for joy. It was his song he heard, the one that his last Muggle bonded wrote down. Someone was singing it, some wonderful voice, almost Phoenix like. He flew down, looking for the singer. He found a big, dark haired man singing his song. His eyes closed as he sang, a tear falling down his face with the emotions of the song.
‘He knows!’ The Phoenix thought with joy. ‘He knows what my song means. He is the one! He is Muggle, but that doesn’t matter!’
The Phoenix let loose a joyous note as he flew around his new bonded. Crooning with the man as he sang. The dark haired man heard the sweet notes of the Phoenix song and stopped singing suddenly, opening his eyes.
“What…what kind of bird are you? What kind of bird sings opera in tenor?” He asked in shocked surprise.
‘He is a Muggle…how can he see me? Unless…’ The Phoenix wondered in surprise then went closer to check out the man. He sat down on the man’s shoulder, quirking his head to look into the dark haired man’s eyes. The Phoenix gave a high clear note as he looked into the man’s eyes.
‘Who? Magical? No wand?’ The Phoenix sent his thoughts to his bonded.
“What? Who’s talking?! Who’s there?” The man asked in alarm.
‘Me. Your bonded.’ The Phoenix told him.
“My…what…where are you?” The man was getting more upset as he searched for the voice.
‘On your shoulder…are you blind dark haired man?’ The Phoenix said getting exasperated.
“The bird…you say you’re the bird…that a bird is talking to me?” The man said gaping at it.
‘Yes. Haven’t you ever seen a Phoenix before? Where is your wand?’ The Phoenix demanded.
“My wand? What do you mean, I’m a singer not a conductor, I don’t need a wand. Then again, I’m talking to a bird, a mythical bird apparently. I may not be a singer much longer, I may just be going crazy.” The man said in some confusion.
‘You’re not a wizard?’ The Phoenix cocked it head at him in confusion.
“No…”
‘But you can see me?’ It said reasonably
“Yes…but then, if I’m going crazy I could see anything.” The man retorted.
‘You’re not going crazy…you are just unique.’ The bird said positively.
“Really? You know, if I were going crazy, I expect that I would tell myself that I wasn’t…” The man said with a bit of convoluted logic.
‘Trust me dark haired man, your are not crazy. You’re just a Half-magical.’ The Phoenix said with certainty.
“A Half-magical am I? So, a magical bird that I can only see tells me that I can actually do magic? Right, yeah, the stress of all that press from that book has gotten to me. I must be having a nervous breakdown.”
‘No dark haired man, I’ve already told you you’re not. Haven’t you ever wondered why you can sing so well?’ It asked.
“Because I practice.” He said with a snort.
‘Well, yes, but don’t you notice that when you sing people are moved in a different way than when other’s sing? That when you sing a song it reaches people it never would have if someone else sang it?’ The Phoenix said trying to get the man to understand.
“Well…yes…people have said that…but it is just because I am good my little tenor bird.” The man said.
‘Yes, you are good, but you’re Half-magical too. When you sing, your soul goes into the song. You are truly unique dark haired man. Only a few half-magicals are born every generation. Those Half-magicals that discover their soul music are called Maestro.’ The bird told him proudly.
“So…I’m not going crazy you say?” The man said skeptically.
‘No.’ The bird said firmly.
“Well…seeing as I’m only talking to a bird and no one can hear it but me, it doesn’t seem like a dangerous crazy thing.” The man sighed in resignation then asked the bird, “So my little tenor bird, what is your name?”
‘I have no name of my own, I am what my bonded names me. For you, I am Tenor Bird.’ The Phoenix said smugly.
“Is that so? Well, I am Luciano Pavarotti. But as we are, as you say, bonded, you may call me Luci.” The man said with a grin.
‘Will you sing again Luci? That is my song you know, my last Muggle bonded wrote it.’ The bird begged the man.
“Your last bonded? That means you knew the great Puccini?” Pavarotti asked in surprise.
‘Yes…he was a visionary. It was the last song we composed together. I sang my song for him before he died.’ The bird said simply.
“I will sing it for you, my Tenor Bird and what is a Muggle?” Pavarotti asked.
‘A Muggle is a non-magical person.’ Tenor Bird told him.
“Am I a Muggle?” Pavarotti asked curiously.
‘No, you are a Half-magical.’ Tenor Bird corrected him.
“I...well, alright. Will you sing Nessun Dorma for me Tenor Bird?” He asked.
‘No. It is my soul song, and a Phoenix will only sing its soul song when its bonded is about to die, or just after they have.’ Tenor Bird said firmly.
“Ah, well, in that case, let us refrain from having you sing it for now.” Pavarotti said hastily.
‘Yes, good idea.’ Tenor Bird agreed.
Italy , 2007
Luciano Pavarotti was dying and the Phoenix knew it. Luci and his Tenor Bird had only had five scant years, but they had been powerful ones. Somehow Luci’s singing had gained a new dimension, it reached even more people than before. As his twilight years came to dusk, Luci asked his bonded for a song.
“Will you sing Nessun Dorma for me Tenor Bird? I think it is time.” Pavarotti asked softly.
‘Yes my Luci, it is time.’ Tenor Bird said sadly.
And so the Phoenix sang. And the Maestro died.
…………
Some time later two melodies could be heard near the grave of Luciano Pavarotti. One melody was Nessun Dorma, the other was a new sound. It was a sound that conveyed a pure joy in being able to sing. It was the sound of a new Phoenix and its soul song.
A/N: The book Luciano Pavarotti refers to is The King & I a book tell-all book written by his estranged former manager, Herbert Breslin. Luciano Pavarotti died Sept. 6th 2007. With his death Opera lost a voice, and the world lost a Maestro. Nessun dormaPavarotti once said; “Penso che una vita per la musica sia una vita spesa bene ed è a questo che mi sono dedicato.” ("I think a life in music is a life beautifully spent and this is what I have devoted my life to.").
A/N: Much thanks to the wodnerful . Thanks to her, my fics now have a lemonly fresh beta smell!
