Then old Ciki-Briki slowly stood up and leaned onto his walking stick. He spoke:
“Young one, you are close, but your words still do not yet speak truth! It was not dance that started this whole thing. It was music! Just try and dance without music. Hmm? See how that will go for you!”
“Hmm,” said Maki-Kiki, missing just a single beat in his capering. “You’re right. I never thought about it that way.”
Ciki-Briki’s commanding voice continued, “Now, let me tell you the real story of how it all began. I first heard this story many, many moons ago — before any of you hatchlings were even born, actually. In the beginning, there was sound. A perpetual hum that spread everywhere across the world. Yet this was no good, as there was no music yet! So, here and there, the first notes started appearing. Then the first melodies… What followed was the first chords… then, the first harmonies… and eventually, music was everywhere!
“Songs were played that we have never heard, and probably never will, as no instrument can recreate that music. Ahh… as time went on, the music became dull and repetitive. Music is only good if there is change and progress; as such, the music was gathered into the first compositions. From these compositions came the first creations. The ground we walk on, the air we breathe, the water that flows, and the fire that crackles in the pit: all of these are the children of music!
“Yet music was not pleased, as these new children could not create anything new with what they were given upon their creation. The flow of the water remained the same in its music; the crackle of the fire remained the same, and the flow of the air kept its same melody.
“So, the music got together again and played a second, even larger symphony. And in this symphony came their second creation: all the creatures that we know today.
“But, these first creatures were short-lived and simple; they could not recreate the music that once was. Even so, the music was surprised. Though these creatures could not create music, they could easily recreate themselves.
“And with each recreation, they would get more perfect and more perfect, until, eventually, one of the creatures heard it. It seemed as a low hum to it, completely unremarkable. Yet, it picked up a nearby bone and, inspired by the music, hit a nearby log. Then, it raised the bone again and brought it down on the log! Then again, and again, and again, until it had developed a rhythm. Great joy and elation flooded this creature, and whereby did it share this new discovery with its kin. Soon after, their whole folk started making this simple music, and as time passed, much more complex music was born.
“This greatly pleased the Music, as it finally experienced something that it had never experienced before: music that was being created by its own, dearest creation. The more music the creatures created, the happier their lives got! The more music they could feel, then the better for them!
“Yet, as with all things, even this began to change. Some of the creatures began rejecting the music and focusing on less important matters in their lives. Pfah! They focused on recreating themselves without the presence of music, instead on the gathering of riches which did not serve the Music. The worst offenders became those who would pass along discord as music.
“Yet, the saddest part of this whole story is that these creatures intermingled with the rest of them, and eventually, the races as we know them today came to be. That is why some folk can hear the music and live by it, while others do not.”