Far above, a ship blinked out of reality. Ael paid it no heed. Ships were always flying in and out of Classik. They had their business, she had hers. Although their business was probably pleasure, and her business was probably out to kill her.
It's true what they said, that if you had a symphony of mages playing water into existence every day for a decade, the air would begin to smell red and taste wet, but what they didn't say is that it could probably also create a monster on the other side of the world that would wreak havoc everywhere it went. When making even a single drop of water, the vibrations ripple through the world, interfering here, messing up something here. And while for a single drop of water, the effect is (usually) imperceptible, near Classik - the largest, most musical city in the world - stray ricocheting vibrations could cause a great deal of trouble. Unless Ael got to them first. And after five hundred years of practice, she'd gotten pretty good at getting there first.
Ael was head of a special forces squad, and while she was the youngest (only 741 years old), she was an intelligent leader and one of the most skilled fighters. This special force, tasked with making sure stray vibrations didn't get out of hand, was technically overseen and directed by the Order. The Order was the largely ignored world government that… well, didn't really seem to do anything (aside from exist, of course, and organize the special forces). Nobody really knew who was in the Order or where they were, and since they didn't really do anything, each city was run by most powerful local organization. Since Ael was posted in Classik, the School told her where she was needed. Parts of the force also operated from within the School, patrolling the musical plane and helping everything return to harmony with as little chaos as possible, but every now and then some things got out of hand… and Ael's squad was called in to deal with the problem, using the old-fashioned way and magic to get the job done.
This was a particularly nasty job. She wasn't quite sure what it was - it was constantly changing, growing a third arm, losing eyes, collapsing onto fourteen legs - but it was definitely a) not natural, b) alive, and c) dangerous - all the criteria she needed. Currently it appeared to be rather interested in the corpse of some creature it was devouring and hadn't noticed her. Yet.
"I've found it," she whispered into the com. "Looks like this creature's been building up stray vibrations for years. Can't even tell what it was to begin with, it's become so mutated it can't even hold a shape for long. Check my position and let's do this, over." On her sensor, the red blips indicating the rest of her squad started moving towards her. The… thing… was no longer feasting. Instead it was sitting strangely, breathing slowly, its changing subdued. Perhaps it was preparing for a nap. Wouldn't that be convenient. Relaxing her mind, half-closing her eyes, Ael peeked into the ethereal plane.
It was there - clear and bright as day, not a faded mess of lines like other creatures, but a glowing, vibrant, sentient mind, aware and alert. And it was staring straight at her.
Ael's eyes flew open as it hurled itself at her, impossibly fast. Behind it, reality melted as it absorbed more energy to accelerate itself. Instinctively, she reached and threw her hands up - a shielding wave rippled out and crashed into the creature, sending colorful sparks flying as the vibrations jarred, and it fell to the ground. She drew her sword and lunged - and at the touch of her thumb, shing! the hilt extended into a spear, sparkling in the Sol and glowing with energy. The tip hit the thing - sort of a blob now - and electricity exploded outwards, lighting it up with a bright blue and leaving a stench of burnt rubber in the air. It jerked and shuddered, bending in on itself, slurping the spear, pulling Ael in like a fish on a hook. Struggling, she twanged a string in the air and a blast of color hit it where the eyes might be. It roared in frustration, and Ael pulled her spear free, spinning it around in a circle to hit it from the other side.
Her spear clanged off the thing, which was now lumbering on six legs under a heavy, solid shell. It lowered its head and charged, bellowing. Ael jumped, pulling a string to send herself up ten feet, and she landed behind the thing as it ran through the spot she had been and instead crashed into a tree. She spun around and leaped onto its back, and as it turned to try and find her, she used her spear to pole-vault over its head, stabbing the blade into the back of its neck and leaping off as the charged blade blasted it with electricity again.
She landed and rolled, coming up to face the beast. Her spear had missed severing its spinal cord, but the electricity had overloaded its nervous system, so that it was shaking on the ground, morphing into different shapes every second. While it lay on the ground roaring in pain, she concentrated on the strings that held it together. Reaching, she began a crude magical dissection to weaken it before it regained its composure - tearing at strings, messing up vibrations, anything to stop it. Colors flew out of it and it began to stink in ways impossible to describe, parts of it suddenly catching on fire or becoming freezing to touch. It screamed in agony, a magical vibration rippling out, and the noise ripped through Ael, stabbing at her, distracting her for just a moment.
And then it was back on all fours, standing over the spear, and a tail came and lashed out at her, striking her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. Ael heard a cracking noise. It charged, and she tried to roll away, but her shoulder screamed in protest, and then it was on top of her, biting at the shield she threw up in desperation. She struggled to mend her fractured shoulder as the strength of the shield weakened, but the pain lancing through her body wasn't helping.
"FAGE!" An angry streak of red fire crashed into the side of the monster and exploded into purple, sending it flying off of her. Striding through the forest came Kairn, and "Kzoop!" came Hines with bolts of blue lightning from the other side, sending into involuntary spasms. Her squad's most skilled mages, they were both practiced Orators, mages who used spoken word to do magic. Orators were particularly skilled at casting fast, powerful spells, making them invaluable in combat. The most difficult part to being an Orator was the required knowledge of the musical language, and both Kairn and Hines had been studying it for thousands of years.
The thing was still alive though. Crawling, oozing, twitching between forms, it still glowed vibrantly in the musical plane - very much alive. Given a minute, it could probably gather enough energy and mental concentration to slaughter them all. Fortunately, it wasn't given that minute. Kairn and Hines were chanting, and as they spoke their words became reality. A powerful shielding bubble encased the monster, trapping it, and they kept chanting, keeping it in place as the rest of the squad arrived. Together, they dissected it properly, carefully separating each string and weaving them into the fabric of reality.
Ael sealed off the pain from her shoulder, but remained wary of it. She retrieved her spear and surveyed the local damages, which were… extensive. Colors burned in the air, strings were deharmonized, some drained of vibration. Patches of reality appeared melted and were both hot and freezing to the touch, stinking of sulfur. An impressive mess for a single creature. Ael retrieved her spear and, retracting the haft into a normal sword hilt, sheathed it. She pulled out her com and called the School for a team of mages to clean up the mess, and an ambulance. Once the creature was gone, she addressed the squad.
"The School's sending a team down here to clean this up, so we don't have to worry, our job is done. I'm injured, I'll probably be hospitalized for about a week. Until I'm back, Kairn's your leader, as usual, if anything comes up. Thanks for saving my ass, again. You guys are awesome." As the sound of sirens drew nearer, she sat down and felt her shoulder, unblocking the pain. Ouch. At least a week. The hospital was probably the least exciting part of this job. Make that definitely.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
String Theory
"Close your eyes. Relax your body. Relax your mind. Count your breaths and clear your mind, just be."
1… 2… 3
"Let go of your thoughts. Don't stop them, simply let them go, relax, let them evaporate into nothing."
5… 6… 7…
"Hear the world around you. Visualize it if you must. A web of strings, constantly vibrating, the sound making up the world we know and live in."
9… 10.
Thom stepped out of his body and into the ethereal world. It stretched before him in all directions, glowing a deep purple, almost black. He was standing on what appeared to be nothing, and all around him strings stretched into all directions, of all different sizes and vibration and color, glowing slightly with the reflection of their sound.
"Very good," said his mentor, stepping forward. His ethereal body, like the rest of the strings, glowed, because it too was made of strings - unique double-helix strings which, when vibrated properly, somehow gave the properties of life. "And now find the string you want. Don't work to find it, just hear it in your mind and it'll be there." Thom stretched out an ethereal hand and felt for the right string. Among so many, it should be impossible to find, but there it was, right beneath his fingers. A tiny string, glowing slightly red with the pitch of A. And with the lightest of tugs, barely touching it, changing the vibration ever so slightly…
Plink. Thom's eyes snapped open as a drop of water hit the metal pan in front of him. A faint red glowing line in the air in front of him faded out of existence as the string returned to its natural vibration. "Excellent," said his mentor, standing up from the meditative position. "Practice that when you have the opportunity, but remember to be shielded when you do, just so if you make a mistake it's contained." He switched off the small shielding device and tossed it to Thom, who caught it easily and stowed it in his bag. "We'll meet again next week and work on water to fire transmutations. Be sure you can make enough water by then." Thom bowed, and once his mentor returned the ritual farewell Thom left the chambers and headed for the lift that would take him to open-air hangar on top of the Temple.
The School of Classik Temple was the heart of Classik, a luminescent city floating high above the forest of Ten'Lora. The School, and the city, was divided into five Districts - Ren'saunce, Barok, Classik, Roman't'k, and Modern. Each district had a slightly different feel, of course, due to the buildup of musical residue from the millenias. Playing a single note to make a single drop of water has an imperceptible effect on the world, but if you had a symphony of mages doing that all day every day for a decade, the air would begin to smell red and taste wet, as it became more and more difficult for the strings to return to their natural state. Since different styles of Classik sound different, the School keeps music in the appropriate location, which both enhances the musics and keeps the city in harmony. And a glorious harmony, too - glittering white towers stretched high into the sky, ships of all kinds danced among them, and the forest thrived below, stretching from horizon to horizon, growing taller than trees anywhere else in the world. A city of those interested in the advancement of humankind, the greatest developments came from here - from the decoding of the genetic string, allowing lifespans to be stretched indefinitely and bodies to be changed at will, to the understanding of the magical strings that define the world.
'Course, with all those stuffy old geezers worried about protecting the harmonies of their city they'd been living in for ten thousand years, there wasn't much room for variation - especially in the Ren'saunce and Barok districts where Counterpoint was still the preferred musical style. And besides, all these people practically spoke music - whereas Thom still liked a little language guiding his. And he knew just where to find that.
Without hardly a glance for the glittering beauty surrounding him, or the amazing view available from the roof of the Temple, Thom headed straight for his ship. Streamlined, a soft silvery-white, with top-of-the-line sonic engines, it hummed at his approach, and as he strapped in he punched in coordinates for Rok, a city on the other side of the world. It hooked in to the worldwide transportation network, and leaped fluidly into the air and away from the city. In a moment, the sonic engines came online, and Thom was travelling impossibly fast, the speed of reality - the speed of sound. He'd be in Rok in no time - literally.
1… 2… 3
"Let go of your thoughts. Don't stop them, simply let them go, relax, let them evaporate into nothing."
5… 6… 7…
"Hear the world around you. Visualize it if you must. A web of strings, constantly vibrating, the sound making up the world we know and live in."
9… 10.
Thom stepped out of his body and into the ethereal world. It stretched before him in all directions, glowing a deep purple, almost black. He was standing on what appeared to be nothing, and all around him strings stretched into all directions, of all different sizes and vibration and color, glowing slightly with the reflection of their sound.
"Very good," said his mentor, stepping forward. His ethereal body, like the rest of the strings, glowed, because it too was made of strings - unique double-helix strings which, when vibrated properly, somehow gave the properties of life. "And now find the string you want. Don't work to find it, just hear it in your mind and it'll be there." Thom stretched out an ethereal hand and felt for the right string. Among so many, it should be impossible to find, but there it was, right beneath his fingers. A tiny string, glowing slightly red with the pitch of A. And with the lightest of tugs, barely touching it, changing the vibration ever so slightly…
Plink. Thom's eyes snapped open as a drop of water hit the metal pan in front of him. A faint red glowing line in the air in front of him faded out of existence as the string returned to its natural vibration. "Excellent," said his mentor, standing up from the meditative position. "Practice that when you have the opportunity, but remember to be shielded when you do, just so if you make a mistake it's contained." He switched off the small shielding device and tossed it to Thom, who caught it easily and stowed it in his bag. "We'll meet again next week and work on water to fire transmutations. Be sure you can make enough water by then." Thom bowed, and once his mentor returned the ritual farewell Thom left the chambers and headed for the lift that would take him to open-air hangar on top of the Temple.
The School of Classik Temple was the heart of Classik, a luminescent city floating high above the forest of Ten'Lora. The School, and the city, was divided into five Districts - Ren'saunce, Barok, Classik, Roman't'k, and Modern. Each district had a slightly different feel, of course, due to the buildup of musical residue from the millenias. Playing a single note to make a single drop of water has an imperceptible effect on the world, but if you had a symphony of mages doing that all day every day for a decade, the air would begin to smell red and taste wet, as it became more and more difficult for the strings to return to their natural state. Since different styles of Classik sound different, the School keeps music in the appropriate location, which both enhances the musics and keeps the city in harmony. And a glorious harmony, too - glittering white towers stretched high into the sky, ships of all kinds danced among them, and the forest thrived below, stretching from horizon to horizon, growing taller than trees anywhere else in the world. A city of those interested in the advancement of humankind, the greatest developments came from here - from the decoding of the genetic string, allowing lifespans to be stretched indefinitely and bodies to be changed at will, to the understanding of the magical strings that define the world.
'Course, with all those stuffy old geezers worried about protecting the harmonies of their city they'd been living in for ten thousand years, there wasn't much room for variation - especially in the Ren'saunce and Barok districts where Counterpoint was still the preferred musical style. And besides, all these people practically spoke music - whereas Thom still liked a little language guiding his. And he knew just where to find that.
Without hardly a glance for the glittering beauty surrounding him, or the amazing view available from the roof of the Temple, Thom headed straight for his ship. Streamlined, a soft silvery-white, with top-of-the-line sonic engines, it hummed at his approach, and as he strapped in he punched in coordinates for Rok, a city on the other side of the world. It hooked in to the worldwide transportation network, and leaped fluidly into the air and away from the city. In a moment, the sonic engines came online, and Thom was travelling impossibly fast, the speed of reality - the speed of sound. He'd be in Rok in no time - literally.
Introduction: A World of Sound
A futuristic world. A world of flying cities, impossible feats of technology and genetically redesigned humans for whom near-immortality is the way of life. A world without war, without hunger, without poverty, without global warming. And though the people of this world perceive it through with the five ordinary senses, in truth, there is only one sense - for this world is made of sound, and all perceptions come from innumerable strings, constantly vibrating, defining, shaping the world. And so it's a world where sounds have the power to shape reality, where the dropping of a pin could make a spark, or Beethoven's Symphony #9 could raise a mountain.
Humans have learned to direct sounds and to use these strings to shape reality to their will. A mage need not be a musician or an orator - a mage can, with sufficient training, play the strings of reality to change the world. But these strings are not physical (since, technically, nothing is, as it's all sound), and so they are manipulated with small amounts of psychic energy - something every spellcaster (mage, musician or orator) learns to do. And so with the ability to manipulate reality, both from within the design or by changing the design itself, this race has everything it could possibly want or imagine - the world is a Utopia.
Or, close enough, at least. While the environment is perfect, the organization is not, and there's the small issue of space travel. In space, there is no sound - and so in space, there is no reality. The further away from the world you get, the fewer strings of reality there are, and eventually you and your ship just sort of… dissolve. While the government of this world largely goes ignored, space travel is an issue hotly debated, and scientists have long claimed that traversing space is impossible, and pointless - there's nothing out there.
How could there be, when reality is made of sound?
Humans have learned to direct sounds and to use these strings to shape reality to their will. A mage need not be a musician or an orator - a mage can, with sufficient training, play the strings of reality to change the world. But these strings are not physical (since, technically, nothing is, as it's all sound), and so they are manipulated with small amounts of psychic energy - something every spellcaster (mage, musician or orator) learns to do. And so with the ability to manipulate reality, both from within the design or by changing the design itself, this race has everything it could possibly want or imagine - the world is a Utopia.
Or, close enough, at least. While the environment is perfect, the organization is not, and there's the small issue of space travel. In space, there is no sound - and so in space, there is no reality. The further away from the world you get, the fewer strings of reality there are, and eventually you and your ship just sort of… dissolve. While the government of this world largely goes ignored, space travel is an issue hotly debated, and scientists have long claimed that traversing space is impossible, and pointless - there's nothing out there.
How could there be, when reality is made of sound?
Author's Note
This is a world of sound. A world I just designed, so new it hasn't found its name yet, but already an amazing place. Hopefully you'll enjoy the stories you find in it.
Partly inspired by my spatial perception of music synesthesia, partly inspired by my initial response to string theory, partly inspired by my own brain-crack while listening to Evanescence really loud and staring out into space. Partly inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien, by George Lucas, by C.S. Lewis, by Tamora Pierce, by Patricia Wrede, by Christopher Paolini, by Hillary Milton. Partly inspired by Roy Norvell's game Epic'd and by Blizzard Entertainment. And partly inspired by music.
And somehow all the parts fit together to create one glorious chord…
Partly inspired by my spatial perception of music synesthesia, partly inspired by my initial response to string theory, partly inspired by my own brain-crack while listening to Evanescence really loud and staring out into space. Partly inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien, by George Lucas, by C.S. Lewis, by Tamora Pierce, by Patricia Wrede, by Christopher Paolini, by Hillary Milton. Partly inspired by Roy Norvell's game Epic'd and by Blizzard Entertainment. And partly inspired by music.
And somehow all the parts fit together to create one glorious chord…
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