The grand theater was full for a premier performance of a show dedicated to the the elegant and timeless harp. The audience was filled with anticipated chatter, but as the lights dimmed, a wave of silence rushed over them. A little boy and his grandfather were a part these spectators, and the boy tugged on his grandfather's sleeve excitedly as the curtains pulled open to reveal a harpist with her instrument. She plucked the strings so effortlessly and it made such a beautiful noise that sounded light, yet at the same time rich and deep. The boy listened in awe. When the performance came to an end and the applauding had finished, he asked his grand father, "Grandpapa, why do the harp's strings sing?"
      His grandfather chuckled. "There's a story that tells you why it does and I'm sure you'll like it...."

      A time long ago, the world was ruled by the kingdom of Gods and Goddesses. They looked over the earth and the mortals that lived on their creation, sometimes muddling and disrupting the mortals' lives for their own enjoyment. There was an unimaginable number of Gods who existed, and every one held a power over a specific aspect of life. Wielding the power of light, was the god Lumyus; over water and the great oceans of the earth, there was Vanniad; and the power to protect animals was granted to Bestellia. But there was one god, who went by the name of Audicelles, who controlled the sensation of sound.
      It was Audicelles who called the birds to sing their song in the morning and lightning to make its ferocious booming thunder. Audicelles was the god who gave the mortals a voice and the will to speak. More importantly, he was the patron of musicians and singers, bequeathing the gift of musical talent to them. The god had a reserved personality and took the greatest care into providing everything with the ability to make some sort of noise, whether it be the gurgling of a stream or the howling of the wind.
      While observing the mortal world from up above in the heavens, it was one day that a group of gods, with them Audicelles, came upon the existence of a beautiful girl who ruptured awe in all of them. Her beauty was breathtaking; her eyes were shimmery emeralds and long, blonde curls cascaded down her back. Alone in an olive tree grove, she began to sing. Her voice was like a free soaring bird, riding on the thermals, rising higher and lower as easily as if the wind was her song. Everything fell silent around her, even the trees and flowers listened to the hymn. Emotion burst through Audicelles; he had never heard such a mystical voice escape from a mortal's lips. But when the young woman's song finally ended, Audicelles felt empty and depraved. He craved to hear more of her song, and to gaze upon her beautiful face. Ambitious, Audicelles decided to go down to the world of the mortals and see her for himself.
      Audicelles descended to Earth in a form that made him look human. By communicating with the birds who often heard the girl sing, he was able to find out she lived in the village of Gante, a small community clustered near by the mountains. He inquired about her in the village and apparently everyone knew of the girl and her alluring voice. He soon found her home and, to his delight, a gently singing voice was being carried through an open window. Audicelles climbed up the stucco walls - he still had his godly powers and no wall could stop him from fulfilling his desire - and crouched on the windowsill. Inside sat the enchanting girl at a vanity, mindlessly brushing her hair. But a creak of the sill caused her to turn and gasp in horror as she saw the stranger Audicelles in her room.
      "Who are you?" she demanded from him. Even her angered voice was euphonic.
      "I am Audicelles," he replied, deciding to tell the honest truth, "the god of sound. Your song is so sweet. Won't you sing more?" he implored. The young woman was astounded: It was only in stories and tales that the gods ever visited humans. Knowing that it was a horrible evil not to perform a deed asked by a god, and very rude to gape with one's mouth so open, she nodded to Audicelles and continued with the song she was singing since before his arrival. The god was even more captivated in the presence of the young woman, and felt the beating of his heart grow faster. Love was not an emotion he felt pounding through him very often. When the song ended, he asked, "What is your name, fair maiden?"
     "It is Laepidia," answered she. Audicelles thought it was the most perfect name in the world. Laepidia next sang a joyous ballad but later they began to speak about each other. The warm sun beckoned them outside where Audicelles questioned Laepidia about the lives of mortals and she in turn asked him about the kingdom of gods as they strolled through the ancient groves of olive trees. As they passed, the trees rustled their leaves and mourning doves cooed. At a pond hidden within the grove, Audicelles made a bullfrog release a melodious croak, making Laepidia laugh.
     At long last Laepidia asked Audicelles, "Could you give the sound of one thing to another?" This caught Audicelles off guard and he was surprised by such a strange question.
     "Yes, I do suppose so. But I believe every thing deserves to make it's own rightful voice." Laepidia didn't seem to hear him.
     After a moment of silence was shared between them, Laepidia burst out, "Would you give me all the voices of the earth? I want to whistle like a bird, to shout like crashing waves against the shore! Let me roar like a lion when I'm angry, and when I cry, let me sound like torrent of rain." Audicelles felt uncertain. By giving one being all the voices that existed, everything else would be mute. There could be terrible consequences and it required a great deal of power. But he was helpless under the pleading gaze of Laepidia's gleaming eyes, all he ever longed for was to bring her happiness. At last he gave in saying, "As you wish, but you must promise to use them carefully." After she nodded her assent, he concentrated on the task to be done and... after a moment everything fell silent.
     The leaves had stopped rustling and the wind no longer hoarsely blew in their ears. When birds opened their beaks to chirp, no sound came out and as Audicelles and Laepidia walked, no noise came from the grass as they stepped on it. Laepidia, however, was making all the noise that she could, the rushing sounds of waterfalls and neighing of horses were being emitted out of her throat. She pranced around in glorious delight at her new ability. Laepidia grabbed Audicelles hands and they began to twirl around in circles down the row of the olive tree grove. The girl started to sing and now her voice, even more exquisite, was intertwined with the playing of a flute. Laughing, the sound of tinkling chimes, Laepidia began running back towards the village in order to show the villagers the god-given gift she had received, Audicelles chasing behind her.
     As they approached the usually bustling village square, all was strangely silent. Carts that usually clattered on the cobblestone went by without a rattle and villagers no longer greeted each other on the streets. "What is the matter?" Laepidia asked a merchant selling vegetables on the side of the street. He only shook his head and heaved a depressing sigh, although no breath was ejected. Laepidia then realized that not only had she taken the voices of nature, but those of her fellow people too. She could mimic any human voice that she knew and speak tongues that she knew naught.
     Laepidia, with Audicelles at her side, returned to the girl's home. There she found her younger brother playing the yard. With a ghastly idea, she perfectly mimicked her brother's voice, who in return gave her a dirty glare. When Laepidia entered the house, she came upon her mother, bent over a pot and stirring it ever so slowly. The woman's face looked utterly desolate. It was Laepidia's mother who had taught her how to speak and to sing. Who sung her lullabies when she was young and also instructed her on all of the folk songs that she knew. If there was anything she would ask to give back, it would have been her mother's voice. So before she was seen in the house, Laepidia slipped back outside and swiftly directed Audicelles to a forest, old and mysterious.
     "Why have you not been exercising the gift that I gave you?" Audicelles asked, noting Laepidia's dismal behavior ever since her brief glance at her mother. There was a pang of fright that flew through him; the thought of Laepidia no longer liking him hurt like a curse.
     "I greatly appreciate your gift, Audicelles," she started uneasily, "but the desire that I had, to grasp every voice as my own, seems now foolish of me. I want my mother to be able to sing once more. I do not doubt that I have hers now in my possession, but I dare not use the voice of my mother, so pure and hard working." Laepidia lowered her head in grief, "Will you accept the return of your gift?"
     The god felt the grief in his heart, too. He missed the noises that naturally filled the world and the individual entity of each. But then again, the gift Audicelles had given was the greatest one he had within his power and the fact pained him that there was no other way to please Laepidia without taking it back. He gave his consent, but worry still filled him. To remove a gift from a being was much more strenuous than to bestow one, so he hoped for the best.
     This time Audicelles closed his indigo eyes and entered a state of total concentration. His godly powers flowed through his mind and he took every voice and noise from within Laepidia and returned it to it's original owner. He could feel everything return to it's familiar way; bells chimed and crickets chirped as they once had and mortals once again could speak. When he finished, relieved from a trance, Audicelles excitedly called out to Laupidia, but she appeared to be nowhere.
     Then he heard a quiet murmur, and down at his feet was Laepidia. She lay on her back, weak, and her hair in disarray. As Audicelles kneeled at her side he saw her eyelids flutter uncontrollably and understanding struck. So much power exposed to a single mortal was often fatal.
     Laepidia's voice was feeble, but her words still rang out with melody. In words no louder than a whisper, she spoke, "You were right, Audicelles. Everyone needs a voice to claim as their own. We must keep those things precious to our hearts, to thank you for giving them to us in the first place. Forgive me... Audicelles," and as she repeated his name for the last time, she departed into the Eternal Sleep.
     Audicelles, with tears rolling down his cheeks, bowed his head over Laepidia's dead body. Love was snatched away from him, and so was the song that had once erupted so much joy in him.
     An idea dawned on Audicelles as if a bolt of lightning had struck him on the spot. He gently pulled several long, glistening hairs from the head of the poor Laepidia. Using his power, he called forth the voice of Laepidia, and there appeared a shining silver sphere of light emerging from her throat. Audicelles embodied the voice into the strands so that, although Laepidia was deceased, her song could still exist in another form in the world of mortals. Lastly, summoning some wood, he constructed a frame and affixed the strands of hair tightly across it. He plucked a golden string and a clear resonating note sounded all around him, as inspiring and innocent as Laepidia's song had once been. At last, resting his new creation in the lifeless arms Laepidia and placing a final kiss on her brow, Audicelles returned once more back to the heavens where he belonged.