under the city lights, i'm sinking
#25
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She was a child; even at her age, it was still quite evident. Her hands were smaller than Corona's as she placed them on the vast surface of the keyboard, and she felt timid, even dwarfed, by the magnificent instrument. She almost felt as if it was too holy for her to be placing grimy, frail hands on, but the sound that piped out of it when she tentatively lowered one finger against a white key was unmistakably the most beautiful thing the Lykoi had ever heard.

She pressed them slowly, in the sequence that Corona had instructed, letting her fingers move as fluidly as possible. The deep, melodic sound slowly increased into a high octave, but only until her last finger stroked a key. The sound reverberated as it slowly died, and she turned toward her aunt expectantly.

Why are there sharp notes if all the notes are already different?

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