Sourma was a healer and a warrior. She knew how to bring back a life from the brink of death and bring the same person to death again. But she always was fascinated by Kendappa's music, that she could create such beauty with just several strings.
Today was a rare day that Kendappa happened to play her harp. The music first reminded Sourma of a stream joyfully jumping about on the plain to reach the ocean. Then the tone changed and it sounded like pouring river running and crashing with anything blocking its way. Then it ends like the ocean, deep and lingering. Sourma was so involved in the music that she was still even after it was ended.
"How do you feel about it, Sourma?"
Sourma was startled out of her trance. "It's beautiful."
"You'll say that," Kendappa half-smiled.
"But it's true!"
"All right." Kendappa stood up and said, every move graceful. She pressed her cheek to Sourma, "Let's come in."
Kendappa should smile more, Sourma thought. Perhaps one day, when the tyrant was destroyed, she could win back the smile for herself and Kendappa.