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Titleless Story


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The story will be updated around every week or so. Also, a title would be much appreicated.



The world exploded. Eleven mages sung their spell.

Bits of rock and steel burst apart as the massive chunk of land ripped itself free from the ground, lifting off into the air. The people atop it scrambled and shouted, frantically trying to find a way to get down. On the other side of the world, another chunk of land tore free, floating off to the side and moving downwards. In the middle of it all stood the circle of ten surrounding the king, their energetic song echoing throughout the battlefield. It was in A-sharp, the key for movement. The ten voices were accompanied by their king, sitting in the middle, plucking away a secondary melody in C, the key for spirit.

The spells had been years in the making, and had been bolstered with several sharps for added effect. Their song thrummed with power, attratcing thick clouds of Soundlights, which appeared around their circle imitating the sound patterns they were forming. The piece tilted, becoming louder, deeper, and slower. The group’s key shifted into C-sharp, with the king expertly transitioning into A. With a roar the two floating landmasses folded, crunching inward on themselves and puffing into two massive orbs of multicolored light. Instantly the light exploded outwards, blowing the eleven mages backwards with the sheer intensity of sound. The very air shook, the force of the sound splitting apart the broken landscape. The mages stumbled to their feet, slowly rising from the ground, staring almost in disbelief at the massive craters they had created.

That was it. It was over. After over a thousand years of nothing but fighting, it was over. The two opposing sides had been separated at last, cast away into their own realities, never to do battle again. The king stood, speaking. “We must move quickly to stabilize the spell. In its current form, the loopholes may allow them to temporarily manifest on their opposing planet. We cannot let this war continue!” It was a valid concern, unfortunately. So sad he noticed it, I was starting to like him…

One of the mages stood, grey cloak fluttering. The other ten regarded him with curiosity, looking upwards quizzically. The cloaked figure stood, and with one fluid motion, pulled out a sword and beheaded the king. The others froze in shock, even their expanded minds unable to comprehend what they had just seen. They died quickly and quietly, too surprised to resist. The Philosopher wiped his blade in silence, his illusionary mage guise melting away. The fools. They thought they were ending a war. No, the true war has yet to start. The separation was only the beginning…

Chapter 1

The triangular face of the moon shone its blue light down on the world, giving everything a cold, detached feel. From the small, whitewashed temple came the high-pitched, flowing melody. It was two staccato string instruments, accompanied by three voices. Of course, Zaftar thought with a frown, it wasn’t actually three people singing. It was one. The common person only had one voice, and relied on instruments and dueling rods to enhance it. Mages had two, with which they could produce powerful, amazing, sometimes deadly effects. Having two voices was not all that uncommon, and yet the only person Zaftar had ever met that had three voices was Valerian.

Zaftar finished circling the temple and entered through the front into a fog of multicolored lights. Through them he could see his people’s leader, Valerian. Valerian was majestic and regal in his purple and white robes, his skin a perfectly neutral aqua green and his stubby wings left respectfully tucked away in direct opposition to Zaftar’s, which were open and visible. Valerian sat on the ground, singing his triple-voiced song. It was in E, of course, the key to unlocking one’s spiritual connections. Zaftar had always viewed it as the least useful of keys, which almost automatically put him on the borders of heresy.

Valerian changed tune, quieting and slowing down, eventually coming to a stop. His two attendants handled the change well, though not nearly as expertly as their master. The Soundlights faded, like an audience exiting after a performance. What would he do? Make excuses and leave? Expel Zaftar from his presence? He sidestepped Zaftar, always avoided him.

“Leave us.” Valerian said, sighing. Zaftar started in surprise. It had taken weeks to force the mage into a confrontation, the coward. And now he had finally backed down. Zaftar gritted his teeth, feeling his greenish skin grow imperceptibly darker with his anger. Of all the people to be given Valerian’s gift, the power to singlehandedly slaughter armies and level cities, the gods had picked a coward. Valerian turned and nodded to Zaftar, somehow giving the appearance of looking down on him, even though he was several inches shorter and sitting down. “I’m going to throw a guess to the Aethers and assume that you’re here to try starting a war. Surely by now you know that isn’t going to happen.”

Zaftar shook his head, struggling to keep his skin color under control. It reflected his loyalties, though it would change on a small level for strong emotions. Keeping his loyalties aligned with his people was somehow more difficult than it sounded.

“Valerian, as much as I enjoy antagonizing you, you can’t possibly be so self-centered as to believe I’d chase you for two whole months over nothing but my own boredom!”

The old mage stood, picking up his staff and turning towards Zaftar. The staff was unnecessary of course, Valerian could walk just fine. Its true purpose was to make noise. And a particularly lethal variety at that. Just looking at it made Zaftar very aware of the swords that hung at his hips. “So, warmongery is the default state you enter when you become bored, is it?” Valerian asked mockingly, turning to inspect that ancient, pre-war technology lining the walls.

Zaftar flushed as he felt his skin darken, and his wings expanded in an uncomfortably noticeable way. Aethers curse my lack of control! “We had another death. Another watchman found dead in a river! Both nations have been silent for half a year now, and we both know that it’s not because they gave up!”

Valerian waved an indifferent hand, his face betraying no emotion. Weak, afraid, foolish. “Watchers know the risks. They live right on the border, the interference there has proven its ability to kill. As for Doom and Althea, the answer is simple. They didn’t give up, we beat them. There is no way past our walls.”

Zaftar spluttered with rage, skin growing ever darker, much to the amusement of Valerian. How does he always notice!?

“I appreciate your concern, but you’re a warrior. It’s your job to be paranoid. I’ll tell the guards to be more careful, if that makes you happy. Now leave me to my meditation.”

Zaftar left. He could not disobey a direct order from the Neutralis leader, former friendship or no. He growled softly to himself, forcing his body backa to a neutral green as he stormed out. If Valerian insisted on getting his people killed because he failed to see the natural signs, then Zaftar was going to have to fabricate a few more obvious ones...

Edited by Observer
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Oooh! i Like it. Music is magic? Each key performs a different task? A for movement, C for spirit? I like it! I like it a lot!

can I suggest that harmonies have positive effects, and discords have negetive effects?

As for a title, permit to make a few suggestion:

The Symphony

Symphony of Chaos?

Melody of Night?

Harmony of *Insert setting of story*

Best of luck with this story! I like it, its an original idea - Music has often been a part of magic - tolkien for instance, but to my knowledge, none has ever taken it so literaly.

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Castlevania? No, you'll have to explain that for me - I have never played those games...

Oh sorry. The joke was because the Castlevania games all have titles basically like the ones suggested.

Symphony of the Night. Harmony of Discontent. Etc.

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Added the first chapter. It's a touch short and will probably be going through a few revisions, but I figure I'll put it out here anyways. I worry that it feels alittle too much like the Royal Locks. I suppose Zaftar is a bad example to use, considering how volatile he is compared to others. Let's just say it's more loyalties than anything else than determines one's appearance.

Edited by Observer
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