The Unspoken Tradition

Chapter 4 (Lumi)

Lumi floated around the graveyard; he was stuck as a spirit for now. If he wanted to save enough energy to become a solid being later, he had to be a see through, floating, yet still able to be hurt, being. His form was of a human, the long-instinct race. He was waiting for his friend; they were going to go to the dance together and he was super excited. Lumi had put his best suit on, his hair was white and silky as it had been neatly styled. Careful not to mess up his hair, he put his earbuds in connected to a phone. When humans had gone extinct, they had become ghosts, and their most prized items came with them. For Lumi, it had been his Music, and sword that was always in a sheath behind his back, unless he was in battle of course. He turned the music on full blast and sat at his grave, listening for a minute before singing.

"A couple unaware, laughter in the air after galling

Falling head-first down a flight of stairs

It's kinda like a pre-angelic bygone wannabe

Who's heading towards God-knows-where

Bye-bye-bye goes the time, turning on a dime

Gone without a reason or a rhyme

So flip a coin, let's rejoin our family in the mirror world"

His voice was sweet as honey and carried across the graveyard, before he realized it, he had an audience. His singing usually turned out this way. On he sang, his voice echoing across the grave filled field.

"Well, no matter what I say, it's confusing either way

Well, no matter what I say, it's confusing either-

Sunday was jarringly redone; a faulty illusion

The ending left misunderstood amnesia for a diorama love

Who will I become?

It's a bittersweetly never-ending phobia

Who will I become?

Never-ending phobia"

His voice soothed the restless souls like a warm blanket on a cold night. They all listened intently, the music floating around them like bees to flowers. Anyone who was there that night would say it was a beautiful sight and sound.

"Sunday was jarringly redone; a faulty illusion

The ending left misunderstood amnesia for a diorama love

Who will I become?

It's a bittersweet utopia

Stars always watching from afar, turning who you are

In the end, it left me delicately scarred beyond pathological façade

Don't you find it odd?

Secretarial speaking

Go on, praise me like a god

Don't you find it odd?

Go on, praise me like a god

Don't you find it odd?

Go on, praise me like a god"

Lumi stood up at the end, his face was solemn, as he had sung the song of his death. He took a breath and smiled to everyone around. The crowds' eyes were wild in the bittersweetness of the song, the tune had correctly portrayed the life he had lived, and the death he had encountered, and his talent was rare, but what would he do with it? All human buildings had been long since destroyed and so he sang for himself and others. He was known as the "Sword with a Song" for a reason. His friend appeared just then and after getting through the crowd, they walked off to the dance together. Quietly under his breath he hummed the tune to himself.