when all you've been doing for a year is playing piano you get pretty good

Clawed fingertips danced across the ivory keys, though with copious amounts of practice came the ability to silence the small ticks they would otherwise made. The music echoed around the ballroom, ominous and imposing, a fight on the approach, one of which the outcome is a mystery.

Will victory be attained? Or loss?

Only time will tell, but judging by the way the music is only rising and swelling in intensity, it seems a horrible defeat is destined. But still the musician sitting at the piano, hunched over it comically, plays on, eyes closed and mouth squeezed shut. Their body moves and sways in time, their soft, fluffy tail wiggling behind them, betraying their joy. Oh, if only there were an audience in the vicinity to watch their performance, to see how much they'd grown from the timid, shy little thing they'd been a year or so prior.

Their power now came from their confidence in themselves, in their joy of living. They were new, a changed being, free of their previous shackles and free to live as they wished! To play what they wanted, to create music and share their happiness with the world!

Maximus hummed along quietly, ears twitching as their head bobbed from side to side, going from sharper, staccato movements to gentler sways and bobs. They were enjoying this. Others too, if they wished. They certainly did not mind.

This must be the most beautiful place in all the caves.

Catalpa's been around much of the caves, adventurer as she is. She's seen the cave of bones, the cave of waterfalls, stepped one paw into the swamps before deciding they were too much and too disgusting for her to bear—seen, just recently, the flowery plains that seem to stretch on and on and on... but never before has she seen the palace.

The palace is gorgeous. Stepping through the tunnel is like stepping into another world; one where the grass grows strangely short and even, where the light above seems to have inverted, brightening colors and darkening others in the strangest of ways. There are trees sprouting here, flowers, blooming; the trails here seem different from those forged by wildlife, a little more purposeful, a little wider.

And of course, the palace itself. The building draws her to stare with wide eyes, taking in the smooth curves of the building, the pristine whiteness of its form. It is nothing less than perfect.

Jealousy comes on the heels of her awe. She takes it in, its beauty, its form, and wonders—Why can't I have something like that? Catalpa is not one for permanent dens at all, more of a wanderer and adventurer, but that's not the point. The point is, the palace is pretty and huge and wrought with such obvious power and skill and she wants that. She wants something as pretty as that, to live in, to call home, to call hers.

But she can't, and she knows this, and with a little sigh and a shake of her head she turns her attention away from it. She's being silly. There are so many beautiful things in the world. She can't possibly own them all.

But she can, at least, see them, and cement them in her mind, and it's with that resolution that she continues forward, searching.

It's on the palace steps that she hears something like music. But not the music of the natural world, the pitter-patter of rain or the singing of birds; no, it's something she's never heard before, a foreign, ethereal tap-tap-tapping, the sound with a strange echoing ring to it, rising through the palace.

It sounds like nothing she's ever heard. It sounds powerful. Like an ode to some great beast, or a song of war, and Catalpa's kitty ears prick high as she enters the palace without second thought and follows the sound.

The musician is an upright kind of beast, with a shaggy, full mane and antlers dancing with pretty flowers. Catalpa doesn't really care who or what the player is, though—not in the face of that music.

What is that?

She pads on quiet feet, ears pricked as the song continues, flows, rises with expert skill, and leaps up to the strange instrument which she has no name for, balancing on the wooden edge just past the keys as she watches their fingers draw melodies from the board with verve and precision.

She doesn't say anything—not yet—too enraptured in the power of the song and watching them play.

Maximus didn't have the ability to sweat, as they had no such glands. Instead, their mouth was slightly open, panting to release the heat built up by their incredible performance. Their hands slowed, however, eyes falling open, revealing a soft mix of pink and orange, like a sunset captured beautifully in their orbs. Long lashes drifted over their cheeks as they blinked slowly, ears flicking forward as they noticed Catalpa.

”.... Hello,” they said quietly, their voice soft and gentle as their fingers came to a stop. ”I'm Maximus. Are you here to listen?”

Without waiting for an answer, they'd move on to their next piece, a song that reflected the nostalgia of childhood, of hope and dreams. Of never being truly alone, for the world held your hand. Maximus put everything into their playing, massive fingers falling so delicately on each ivory key that it was impossible to know that those same claws were made for a killer.

The song seemed to go its own way, played by a being who had forged their own path despite what had been meant for them. A free spirit who wanted nothing more in that moment than to share their happiness.

The instrument vibrates softly under her paws. Catalpa can feel every strike of the keys from her perch besides the keyboard; feel the movement of unseen machinery as the unknown player strikes keys with skilled hands, drawing strange melodies from the instrument like it's nothing.

How do you memorize all that? Catalpa wonders, watching their claws tap-tap-tap the right combination of keys. How do they know which ones to press to make the music? And how are they so fast at it? They're quite good...

She blinks a few times when the music ends, jolted out of her thoughts by the player's soft voice. It's mildly disconcerting for her to have to crane her head up (and up, and up...) when they speak; she hadn't been paying attention to them when they were playing, more focused on the music, but now that they've said something to her she's suddenly struck by just how tall they are.

"Um..." she stalls a moment, letting her thoughts catch up to her. "...yes. You're... you're very good at playing."

Even if she doesn't know what the instrument is, never seen nor heard anything of its like among the caves, she can tell that much.

Among the gentle tune of a new song, a softer song, one that reminds Catalpa of faint memories of when she first hatched, the freezing ice of the waterfall cave, she tilts her head and asks, "What... is this? What instrument are you playing? I've never seen anything like it..."

”Ah, thank you,” Maximus said at the compliment, a smile crossing their face. ”I practice as often as I am able. Fortunately, no one else seems to use this, or at least no one that I've seen, so I don't think anyone really minds.”

They perked up at the question, humming as they focused on their playing for a moment, trying to balance thinking and plucking at the keys. They finally spoke, their head tilted to one side, blinking softly.

”I don't know what this is called,” they said with a rather lame shrug. ”I found it and became curious. It was when I pressed on the keys that I found it made sounds, then as I explored it more, I learned it could make music. And so I started to play.”

The song drifted off and they stopped playing, instead turning their attention to Catalpa.

”Do you have a name?” they asked kindly, their sunset eyes soft and warm as they gazed at the small feline, so much smaller than they.

Something about the way they look at her, it... feels nice.

Catalpa spends quite a lot of her free time forging her way through the caves, exploring their various biomes and all the nooks and crannies within the tunnels, riding on the thrill of discovery. And that's a good thing, and she loves it, and she wouldn't give up adventuring for the world, but... it gets a bit lonely without anyone around.

And the other Gembound, they seem... kind. Warm and loving in a way Catalpa's never really met before, but in a way she wouldn't mind experiencing again and again. She basks under their gaze like a warm light; there's a gentle purr beneath her voice when she replies, "Catalpa. My name's Catalpa."

She watches the keys tap-tap away, settling into the gentle music with soft swishes of her tail. "...you taught yourself? That's incredible. How do you remember all those keys?"

Oh, wait. She's forgetting something. "Oh, um—and, what's your name?"

Catalpa reminded them of their old Overseer. Cain had been her shape, though of course the overseer had wings and other features. But it was clear the two of them had been cut from similar cloth.

”I told you my name,” Maximus said in amusement. ”Though maybe my playing was too distracting. I'm Maximus.”

They started up a song again, just playing to play rather than a piece they'd come up with and been practicing. They knew the piano like an old friend by now, so plucking out all the notes was easy.

”I practice a lot. I learned what notes sound good and which don't. It took a long time, but I'm happy with where I am now, and it helped me during a very rough time in my life,” they said softly. ”Music soothes me, you see. I first found music when I found a music box, a contraption that plays music much like this piano, but without a player. You wind it and out it comes, singing away merrily.”