Chapter 445: Voice Of An Angel

A brush of wind swept through the window. As it lifted the hem of a flowing robe, the glint of a curved talon revealed itself, the razor tips almost clutching at the wooden floorboards. 

A harpy.

Wearing the guise of innocent maidens, they inhabited the distant valleys where their voices reached furthest, the sweet echo of their songs luring the unsuspecting astray, until the melody ended and all that could be heard was a single cry of despair.

And now one was here, smiling as she flapped her white wings.

I was horrified. 

After all, if she was here … then what did that mean for my kingdom’s brigands?!

Harpies were an important part of the ecosystem, and none of that involved leaving their spots!

Magpies stole jewelry tossed through my window! Harpies stole the jewelry from the nests of magpies! And then morons went off to steal from harpies, before realising it was the worst decision they’d ever made and decided never to steal again!

There was an implicit understanding! 

We didn’t bother harpies about their pilfering and they in turn didn’t squat in our chapels!

“You!” I said through a gasp. “How … How dare you come to cause mischief while under the guise of an angel! This is not an appropriate place to build a nest!”

The harpy gave a tidy smile, her hands clasped together as though in prayer. 

“Then you may be at ease. This is no guise and this is no nest. I truly am a wandering angel.” 

“You have talons.”

“I have white wings, a pleasant demeanour, and in the right light also the ability to glow. The talons are a point in pedantry. Every angel is different, as confirmed by the sister in charge of this chapel who I believe is now happily wandering in the pear orchard.”

“Or perhaps hanging over the edge of a cliff. Have you come to scavenge for crowns or simply to lure innocents into the nearest chasm?”

“Neither. I’m here with the purest intentions. As stated, I’ve come to lift the hearts of the faithful.”

I immediately pointed to the plaque in the corner.

“You’re demanding donations to those without the will to decline.”

“The donations are voluntary. They’re also for ongoing costs.”

“What ongoing costs? Ensuring that every local barkeeper goes out of business? This is unacceptable. You’re to return every crown you’ve illicitly taken while also fixing the peasants you took them from.” 

“There’s nothing to fix. If you’re truly concerned, then all you need to do is wait. The charm effect should naturally wear off. Eventually.” 

“Eventually? And when is that, exactly? Before or after the crops have wilted?” 

“It’ll be when the farmers are healed in mind and soul. Something which would require me to painstakingly undo and I really don’t have that kind of disposable time. Nor do I see why I should. They asked for solace and I provided.”

“Solace can be found in the sight of neatly harvested fields. You may also help in that regard. Would you like to begin with the wheelbarrow or some other farming tool?” 

“My preference is for none of them. I did not come here to farm. I came here to escape it.” 

“Excuse me?” 

The smile didn’t fade. But the light shining around her suddenly dimmed.

“... Farming,” she said, slowly enunciating the word. “It is a truly ugly profession, no? Believe me when I say I feel nothing but sympathy for those outside. To dig, scrape and claw through the dirt for scraps of whatever half chewed potatoes the slugs declined to eat is a demeaning way of life. I should know. I have experienced that suffering myself.” 

I glanced up and down just to make sure I was looking at the right thing.

“I don’t understand,” I said, more than slightly confused. “What do you mean? Why would you have experience farming potatoes? Are you not a famed siren of the sky?”

“It is exactly because I’m a famed siren of the sky that I have experience farming potatoes. And turnips. And onions and cabbages and carrots, the latter of which is a nightmare to grow, what with the unremitting way their roots cling and grapple onto everything.”

I covered my mouth in horror at the imagery. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am deadly serious.” 

The harpy gestured at the open window where beyond the fields awaited. She wrinkled her nose slightly. A peculiar sight given the way her smile remained fixed.

“Oh, I hardly blame you for thinking everything is easy,” she said. “After all, I only have to sing a pretty song and my dinner comes waltzing directly into my stomach. Sadly, it’s not. These days, whenever anything catches a whiff of a mysteriously haunting song in the distance, they’re running in the opposite direction faster than a dragon can catch them. That’s the life of a modern harpy.”

“... So you learned to grow carrots?”

“And turnips, onions, cabbages and potatoes, yes. It was that or nothing. You’ve little idea how many times I came close to starvation while singing from my nest.”

I raised my hands in exasperation. 

“Excuse me, but you have wings and talons. Can you not just hunt?”

“I’m a harpy, not an albatross. Hunting is considered barbaric … it’s also incredibly difficult.” 

“Surely it’s easier to dive onto whatever nature offers up than to drag it from the soil?” 

“So you’d imagine. Except that diving is a trained skill. I cannot flap my wings and hope. I need to calculate trajectory and velocity against a tiny moving target from the clouds. One mistake and I’m eating worms. Except I’m already doing that with my last batch of beetroots.” 

She shook her head, arms crossed together.

“Well, no more,” she declared. “I’ve decided I’m going to do as my cousin Matilda the Eye Gouger did and live a life of pampered luxury.” 

“By bewitching peasants in a destitute chapel?”

“No, by making a name for myself. Humans rarely entertain one of my kind. But an angel with a harp is an entirely different matter. I already have knights and prominent locals visiting. Soon it will be merchants and nobility. And once I’ve decided on a suitably wealthy human to sponge off, I’ll be able to live a life of contentment free of dragging carrots through the mud.” 

I was utterly appalled. 

On one hand, to seek refuge from carrots while lounging in bliss was the most virtuous goal there was … but on the other, I couldn’t just have a harpy bewitching my subjects to do their every bidding! 

Why, that was my job! 

“... Very well,” I said with a nod. “I understand your predicament. To be forced to rely on such meagre fare as common vegetables would drive even a princess from her bedroom.”

“Wonderful, then I hope that–”

“With that said, you’re not a princess. This means laws apply to you. If you want a life of luxury and pampering, you’ll need to work for it.” 

The harpy raised an eyebrow.

There was little sense of either hostility or begrudgement from her. But then again, it wasn’t her talons she used as a weapon.

It was her voice.

“True~ ♫.” She offered a gentle smile. “Or I could carry on as I wish. And you help fund my lifestyle with a generous donation while forgetting all about this meeting, Miss Adventurer.” 

All of a sudden, her speech took on a sonorous tone, her words rolling over me like a gentle wave. 

I hummed in thought. 

“2.5/10. Worse than the harp.”

The harpy’s eyes widened, her smile finally fading. 

“Why are you not under the effects of my [Charm]?”

“Because I’ve heard better. Frankly, that wouldn’t even pass the auditions to be a penniless bard.”

“That’s impossible.” 

“No, that’s a fact. If a choir complete with spell effects and an acrobatic sequence isn’t enough to move me, then your wild humming certainly isn’t.” 

“My wild humming is enough to bend even the strongest willed towards me, provided they don’t immediately scatter first. You are directly before me. How did you resist my voice?” 

I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile.

“Ohohoho … my, how quaint.”

“What?”

“I see being a harpy doesn’t extend to listening to others singing. Otherwise, you’d know that it’s not willpower which undoes your voice. It’s standards. I’ve tossed rotten apples at the finest songstresses and you are not amongst them … but perhaps with my help, you can be.” 

The harpy stepped towards the open window at once. Her wings unfurled as though to take flight. 

“You’re no common adventurer,” she said, as a note of clear caution flickered across her face. “Who are you?”

I placed a hand to my chest and smiled.

“Why, to most, I’m simply an astonishingly beautiful maiden. But to you, I’m your peer. So permit me to offer a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“A singing lesson–out of respect for your hardship in picking through carrots, if not quite your apathy when it comes to causing local catastrophes.”

The harpy looked appalled.

Ohohohoho!

Indeed, it was finally time to show off my most powerful ability!

[Princess Serenade]!

Yes, after a few initial comments by my mother, I’d spent untold hours practising with more singing tutors than the kingdom realistically contained since they kept mysteriously retiring!

Through day and night and countless exercises, I’d worked tirelessly to ensure that before any audience, it was more than the threat of exile which caused them to applaud! 

That’s right!

I was now ready to astound even a harpy!

In fact … I was already halfway there!

She glanced at the window, but didn’t take flight.

“... What do you mean?” she asked, as hesitation, doubt and pride held her wings. 

“I mean that unlike you, I truly am an angel. And since you seem keener to flee than to undo the trouble you’ve caused, I suppose I should break the spell myself by offering something better–my voice.”

The harpy stared.

And then–

“Ahahahahahahaha.”

She laughed.

Doing away with the tidy smile and calm demeanour, she doubled over as amusement overtook her.

“You are not a harpy,” she said between bouts of mirth. “No song by any human can break the charm woven in my voice. You might prove resistant to it, but not even magic can dispel it.”

“That’s because you haven’t heard me.”

I stood up straight, relaxing my shoulders and gently pressing against my lower abdomen. 

The harpy was curious enough to wait, her eyes judging. 

“Fine,” she said. “I’m not usually one to remain for confrontations with adventurers, but this is bold enough for me to take heed. If you can even remotely impress me, I’ll–”

“Ah … ahem … la … la … lalala.”

The smile faded from the harpy, hearing the first of the dulcet notes soothing her. 

“W-What are you doing … ?”

“Warm up exercises. I need to find my pitch.”

“That’s … what do you mean by find your pitch? What pitch are you–”

“La … lala … lalalalalalalaLALALALALA.”

Hmm.

I’d been rather neglecting my vocal exercises, haven’t I? 

Indeed, I hadn’t done this for quite some time. I could feel the rustiness in my voice. 

Regardless … that’s exactly what warm ups were for!

“LalalaLaLaLala ♪~”

Thus, I went through the full range of notes, occasionally clearing my throat while sliding up and down the scales.

At last, I found the exact pitch my tutors said was best suited for my vocal range.

“Done,” I said with a smile. “I’m now ready to–”

“Blurrggghhhhhhh.”

I stepped back in horror as the harpy collapsed to the ground.

Her eyes rolled upwards as her entire body violently convulsed. Her limbs and wings both shook and went limp as froth built up in her mouth. 

After several moments of spasming, she turned utterly still. 

Only a single, pitiful groan escaped, accompanied by a line of drool leaking from her lips.

I stepped back, then slowly turned to Coppelia.

“O-Ohohoho … behold! The harpy … why, she … she is so enamoured with my warm up routine and definitely not my actual singing that she can no longer stand!” 

I waited for a response.

There was none.

Coppelia offered no reaction. She simply stood there, smiling, her eyes slightly vacant. 

I waved in front of her. 

A moment later, I nodded. 

Very well! I would wake up the farmers with my healing touch instead!