Harp's Song

Part II

Harp and Sitar met several times again to discuss all manner of things. Most were music related. Many were filled with words about muse.

The more Sitar mentioned it, the more fascinated Harp became with the idea of finding his own muse, maybe even on Earth. He also learned quite a bit about the human Sitar called his own muse.

Zexion was his name and he was young even by human standards. Or perhaps Harp was getting them confused with angel years. It was difficult to know. Nevertheless, only possessing 20 of anything seemed rather lacking. Even cherubs had more history behind them, which made humans strange indeed in Harp's eyes.

Yet whenever Sitar spoke of him, this Zexion, a noticeable change came over him. Harp couldn't say what it was, or how it affected Sitar's ability to play music, or even feel it for that matter. Nevertheless, the change was obvious to Harp, whatever it happened to be. He often wondered if he would ever experience something similar.

One day, Harp simply asked.

They were supposed to be practicing, and technically Sitar was. Harp had hit a wall though, and frustrated, he'd allowed his instrument to fade, hoping a short reprieve might give him a second wind.

"Sitar," he said, perched comfortably on another cloud overhang as the lankier angel lounged beneath him, "you've told me a lot about what your muse is like, what you find intriguing and beneficial for your music through him."

Strumming his own instrument idly as he watched Harp above him, Sitar nodded. Indeed he had.

Harp's brow furrowed. "But how do you access your muse from all the way up here?"

The volume of Sitar's instrument increased ever so slightly, the ascending crescendo mirroring Harp's own rising hopes on the matter. "Simple," he replied, looking down at his current medium still attentively.

Harp leaned forward, eager to hear every word. Sitar offered him only four.

"You go to Earth."

~ o ~ o ~

This is how the angel Harp made his first trip to Earth and walked among humans.

Sitar had said it'd be easy. If something spoke to Harp as it had him, instinct would guide him right to it. That would simply be the end of it. Or the beginning, technically.

Yet all the sights and sounds of a living planet initially overwhelmed Harp, and he found himself cowering behind corners and flinching whenever someone spoke loudly anywhere near his direction at all. It took some time before he realized humans couldn't see him, their senses dulled to the supernatural thanks to the over-stimulation of their own admittedly impressive technologies.

Animals noticed his presence sometimes, although even then Harp couldn't claim they really saw him. Sensed was perhaps a better word for it. Often, in passing, a dog would lift its head, or a cat would follow him with glowing eyes eyes, always unfocused, always sniffing to identify the unusual presence who made no sound, who left no noticeable mark on the ground he traversed.

Harp could not say how long he explored Earth, for Earth time is different than that which passes in Heaven. All he could say for certain was that he had not missed a practice, for he would have felt Conductor's wrath almost immediately. Of that he was sure.

Then one day, he heard it, all other sounds lowering as the point of his interest intensified. The sound was choking, was a breathless sob that made Harp's own small chest ache unpleasantly. It was this sound that propelled him forward.

It led him to the living room of a small apartment. Harp had never before entered the dwelling place of a human, but he didn't hesitate even a moment. All doors are open to angels, all paths are made clear by El. Harp slipped in effortlessly through one of the walls.