Go left, towards the music.

I follow the left path, my sword at the ready. Soon enough I come to a grassy clearing. Butterflies flit between the wildflowers in the meadow and the summer sun shines down from above. Several pixies are sitting on a wooden stump in the middle of the clearing, playing a jaunty tune on pipes and fiddles. They look like tiny women, no larger than my little finger, dressed in leaves and bits of grass, fluttering about on gossamer wings. They look up and smile as I approach.

Pixies! These are my enemies. They'll play all manner of pranks on me if I don't look out. I should capture one and make her tell me where the Queen is. But there's something about the music they're playing that calls to me, drowns out all thought of fighting. I can feel it in my fingers, in the tips of my toes. I want to... dance...