Aria

Since they were much larger and lacked the thumbs of the humans that came before them, iguanodons rarely used instruments during musical performances. Not that Mikhail cared either way; regardless of whether or not it included the smacking of a drum or the plucking of some strings, to him, it was all unnecessary, brutish noise. He would prefer to hear what the dinosaur next to him was saying without having to strain his ears against the cacophony.

Unfortunately, his cousin Blackmist disagreed on that front, and he was the one hosting the evening. He bragged that morning about having one of the greatest up-and-coming singers in Atlantis perform in the ballroom, with a full ensemble to accompany her.

Mikhail mentally prepared himself for an utterly irritating evening. The only thing that would be more irritating than the music was Blackmist, should he refuse to show up. He had no choice but to endure it. At least the fruits from his cousin’s orchard couldn’t disappoint him. He suspected dessert would be the only enjoyable part of the evening.

He went to his cousin’s garden as late as he dared, fully intending to spend just enough time to satisfy Blackmist and enjoy the rest of the night in his own territory, where he could have some peace and quiet. Ancient pillars rose up around him, making up the garden’s border. Oviraptors had strung up veils and curtains from them, effectively blocking off the outdoor area. Grimacing, he realized the only way to make an appearance was to head inside. So he went the long way around, until he found the “gate” where the way wasn’t obstructed, and went into the open courtyard.

This area was considered indoors, but it lacked a ceiling, leaving the view of the artificial sky open at all hours of the day. Most buildings in Atlantis were built that way. It was good for keeping the place well-lit, if not for keeping out bugs. Tables along the walls were piled high with fresh fruits, vegetables, clean bones, and even a few cuts of meat for the more adventurous eaters.

At the far side from the entrance was the stage. Luckily for Mikhail, no one was performing yet.

Or perhaps that was unfortunate. That meant he hadn’t missed it.

Still, there wasn’t much to do about that. Mikhail kept himself busy, helping himself to the provided snacks and making small talk with all of the regulars. Wasn’t the weather nice? (It was always nice. Unnaturally so.) Wasn’t Blackmist’s manor beautiful? (Mikhail’s was better.) Have you heard about the singer he signed on for tonight? (Mikhail gritted his teeth, willing himself to be at least a little polite.)

He couldn’t avoid it forever. A hush swept through the ballroom. The famed singer emerged from the darkness and climbed onto the stage. Despite himself, Mikhail found his own breath hitching.

She was featherless, pale brown like fired clay. Her head was a deep red, a secretive veil like the ones strung around the courtyard. Her movements were understated, far from flashy, but every step flowed with courtly grace.

The room brimmed with anticipation as she stepped onto the stage. She paused, head low, her tail twitching to an unheard beat. Waiting for her cue.

Then she lifted her head and started to sing.

Her voice was as soft as a dove’s, but as commanding as a falcon’s. Mikhail couldn’t turn away even if he wanted to. He found himself entranced, rooted to the spot as he listened to her beautiful ballad. Every word burst with emotion, telling a riveting tale that echoed all around him, dominating his senses, overpowering the smells of fruits and the warmth of the other bodies in the room. His world narrowed so that the two of them were the only living, breathing things in the crowded ballroom; everything else had faded into the unnecessary background noise that he once regarded all music as.

“Enjoying the show, cousin?”

“Quiet, Blackmist,” he hissed. But it was too late. His trance was over and the bubble had popped; the world expanded to include every iguanodon at the party, rather than just Mikhail and the singer.

Blackmist wore an insufferable grin and a knowing look in his eyes. “Here I thought you didn’t care for music, and I find you now, devouring poor Bluebell with your gaze.”

Bluebell. At least Blackmist had told him something useful. Her song continued on as they spoke, but Mikhail couldn’t focus properly on it anymore. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Blackmist. I’m sure you only managed to find the one tolerable singer in Atlantis by chance.”

“You’re lucky that I found her, then.”

Mikhail scoffed and didn’t dignify him with an answer.

Hopefully, when this farce of a social gathering was over, Mikhail could talk to Bluebell himself.