Drop, drop, drop. To the beat of her song. She began to sing louder, faster, and the dropping increased.

It was stupid to sing and try to swallow the magical water, so she made it land in her cupped hands. She could—direct—the water and light by how she sang. After a while of walking and stopping in the dark to experiment, she figured it out.

The [Singer] cupped her hands and concentrated hard. Her voice became rougher, lowering in register.

And for a second, she closed her eyes.

Become the role. She put herself in another person’s shoes. Believing she didn’t stand among the dead, but in a sea of colors. She smiled, feeling her heart living. She had been born to become someone else.

Music. She nearly reached for her iPhone. But it was dying. So she sang along. And replaced the accompaniment with her voice alone.

The young woman wandered from sarcophagus to sarcophagus. The song came from Disney—she was a sucker for that kind of thing, though she’d never admit it.

Tangled, I See the Light. Was it Disney? Was it really on the nose? Yes. But it seemed to make the light brighter and that was all that mattered. She sang on.

——

A figure stopped his approach through the endless mausoleum. The guardian hesitated another moment, closed his eyes, and listened.

He caught sight of her up close at last, walking amid the sacred graves of Noelictus. The guardian turned invisible. Stood, wary, his sword drawn.

The young woman stood, weary and dirty. Her hair was dark brown, her skin fair. She stood, oh, taller than average, but no giant among her gender. Her clothes were casual, and colorful, almost garish to his sensibilities. In life, he could have passed her in a crowd and only noticed her attire. She was unremarkable—until she wasn’t.

It was like a transformation. But not one made of a Skill. One made of sheer belief, effort.

Acting.

His ancient armor shifted as his wrath faded.

Her steps were lighter. Her smile was sad, almost melancholy, but touched with wonder. The young woman became a [Princess]. And she sang in a soft voice, calling droplets out of the air. They landed, heavy and fat, in her cupped palms. At the same time—large orbs of light floated upwards, lighting her path, vanishing.

“A Skill.”

He murmured. But he did not approach. The young woman sipped from her cupped palms, drinking the magical water conjured by her Skill.

But even so—he closed his eyes.

——

So immersed was she in the song that she didn’t focus on anything else. The water fell into her hands.