None of her guests knew what to expect, but Vanari waited patiently as Kawa made his way to where she stood and brought out his flute.
"I would be honored to, Miss Vanari."
At that she smiled, bigger than she had all night, and let go of the breath she had been holding all this time. As he began to play she closed her eyes, partly to enjoy the music better, partly in response to the musician's own posture, his head bowed in focus. Unlike the others, the girl remained standing; it only felt right, as though facing him unabashedly as the music unfolded allowed her to fully and publicly accept his gift.
In many ways, the song mirrored her own words perfectly. His flute seemed to tremble meekly in the beginning, as though there was much to be afraid of. The melody echoed over and over, changing slightly each time but still projecting that same fearful anxiety. Suddenly, it got stronger and the flute was singing sharply now, piercing the air with horrible despair. The notes clashed and ran over one another, the tension palpable in everyone's ears.
Then, it ceased. In its place, one soft, ethereal note, no louder than a whisper, began to take root. It tentatively reached higher, then dipped back down, as though wondering, questioning. In its lilting movement, the memory of those earlier, jarring notes slowly faded from the mind, until only the one note was left.
Finally, the note returned to a series, forming a new melody altogether. It held a tone of severity and great import, but also hope and encouragement. The tune carried a strange effect, filling one's heart with a tenuous feeling, a sense of caution and doubt, but also longing and curiosity.
When the last note had long drifted up through the rafters and Kawa slowly lowered his flute, the entire hall was deathly still. Vanari opened her eyes and found them full of tears. As she wiped them away with her sleeve, she saw almost all of her guests were doing the same. For a long moment, there was a heavy blanket of surprise and reverent awe over them, and when they finally came to, many were blinking with smiles on their faces.
"Well, that was certainly unexpected," someone croaked, his voice still full of emotion. Vanari gasped, stunned to hear her father speaking. "I suppose there is only one thing we can do, now."
Everything felt surreal as she watched him approach, his eyes wrinkled with a mixture of amusement and sorrow. When he reached the two young Vanthas, he grabbed a goblet from the table with his weathered, brown hand, then held it high in the air as he declared, "Let us give a toast, then. To the finest flute player who has ever played in Skyglow hold, and to the bravest daughter any man could ever ask for!"
With that, the entire hall erupted in cheers and applause. Vanari found it impossible to tell whom the various shouts and praises were for, but it hardly mattered. She held her father tight, her eyes squeezed shut as tears flowed freely down her face and onto his solid shoulders.
"Thank you, father," the girl wept."You've known all this time, haven't you?"
"How could I not?" he grinned slyly. "You're my daughter, and you've got more of my blood in you than I sometimes care to admit. And how, in the name of Morwen, did you ever meet this fine, young fellow?"
They both turned to Kawa, and Vanari beamed. "By his flute, of course!"
Her father laughed heartily and clasped Kawa on the shoulders. "Well done, Kawa of Snowsong. Our family shall remember you always, as well as your magnificent gift. All of Skyglow hold will know of you now, boy!"
"Hear that? You're going to be famous! Well, sort of," Vanari sheepishly grinned. She gave him big hug, and then, just for added measure, a chaste kiss on his cheek as well. Her face was still slick with tears of joy, but the sudden heat took care of most of that. "Thank you for coming, Kawa, it has made a world of a difference, and not just to me. I hope your father bursts with pride when he hears of this!