Growing p(l)ains: Choraleaf

A hush steadies the square as Euphina Emberwright steps onto the wooden stage, Choraleaf’s leafy frills trembling with quiet delight. She raises her brass panflute; the first measure glides out, bright as morning on dew. Choraleaf answers, a ribboned hum that threads the melody. When their lines braid—note to note, breath to breath—an unseen bell tolls, not iron but meadow-deep, a tone like rain on seed.

Beneath their feet the dusting of pollen hears it. It stirs. Green awakens. Buds pearl along the boards. The crowd gasps as the stage ripples into color—wildflowers racing in sudden bloom, petals brushing Euphina’s boots, twining around Choraleaf’s claws. The dragon trills, delighted at this inadvertent magic; Euphina laughs mid-phrase startled while Choraleaf keeps singing, letting the bell’s echo ride her tune.

Children clap; elders wipe surprised tears; someone shouts that the town will need a gardener for the stage. The last note settles, and a butterfly chooses the panflute like a final chord. They bow together—flutist and lyrical dragon—debuting a song newly named: “Verdant Charm.”

10 comments