Ambrosias adores this ritual.

Sure, he’s never actually seen the dancers move, but he can only imagine it’s beautiful, just like everything else in this hall. The polished marble walls, the carved pillars he and all of the other musicians in the hall play behind, the stained glass windows depicting their god. It’s glorious.

Ambrosias has played this song many times before. The start is always his favourite, those familiar few notes that slowly join into a slow, beautiful rhythm accompanied by the piano. He and his other violinists have played the notes a thousand times over. He’ll never get bored of it, he thinks.