Lost and Forgotten & A Chance To Rule Them All
"Can you hear me? I am Esor Nekon
"Many know me as the Maven of the Strings
"I am only seen in my Late Twenties
"Under these clothes I am Female
"I may look different because I'm a Psychic
"I'm always caught looking Heterosexual
"I'm very skilled in the art of Music
"The vibrations of a Guzheng
can be just as deadly as a knife wound...
"My ways of traveling is by Levitation; merely floating above the ground a few inches with my dress almost touching the ground
"Mirror my image
in your plain sight..."
A photograph from a scrapbook...
Esor has no memory of her true parents. As an infant, she was found abandoned on the doorstep of an adoption house, nestled atop an ancient instrument in an exquisite case of unknown origins. She was an unusually well-behaved child, always quiet and content. Her caretakers were sure she would find a home quickly, but it soon became apparent that what they mistook for uncommon geniality was actually an inability to speak or to produce any sound whatsoever. Esor remained at the adoption house until her teens, watching in hopeless silence as prospective adopters passed her by. During this time, the caretakers sold her unusual instrument to anxious collectors, hoping to build her a trust. For a myriad of bizarre and unexpected reasons, however, it would be returned, or simply appear again outside the house.
When a wealthy man named Aratsel Nekon learned of the instrument, he immediately embarked to the adoption house. When the caretakers showcased the instrument for him, he rose wordlessly and explored the house, stopping outside Esor’s room. Without hesitation, Aratsel adopted her and left a generous donation for the instrument. With Aratsel's guidance, Esor discovered a deep connection with the instrument which Aratsel called a guzheng, Esor seeing it fit to name it Vitreous. In her hands, it played tones which stilled or quivered the hearts of those around her. Within months, she was headlining with the mysterious guzheng for sold-out audiences. She played as though plucking heartstrings, effortlessly manipulating the emotions of her listeners - all without a single written note. In secret, she discovered a potent and deadly use for her guzheng, using its vibrations to slice objects from a distance. She honed this discipline in private, mastering her gift.
Esor is a mute, yet can 'talk' to another person whom she chooses, the 'user'. She claims that only "you" can hear her and says the phrase "From my mind, to yours." This indicates the mental connection between a person and herself, which is a recurring feature in the Cohlwood Space Penitentiary. Because Esor cannot speak, these responses are understood to be magical telepathy with her chosen user. This is seen in the fact that her external interactions, such as jokes or taunts, are musical cues rather than words, meaning that, as stated, only her chosen user can hear her words.
One would question as to how Esor had ended up in the Cohlwood Space Penitentiary, such an innocent and quite girl. The only thing she has with her all the time is a strange, transparent floating instrument resembling a guzheng. Many take this as an advantage because she is both mute and weak in their eyes to do as they desire... Well...
Let us just say we should never judge a book by its cover.
"Let me play my memories
Esor glides forward on harmonious winds, her elegant robe billowing softly behind her as she enters the Great Hall. Her hair fans out on an invisible breeze, swaths of black dissolving into raven feathers at the end of her long hair. She could easily be a fair maiden of music anywhere on Earth, if not for the strange instrument floating before her, appearing to simultaneously protect and guide her.
The building creaks ever so slightly, the foundations resettling themselves on the bonds of strong molding. She angles her ear towards the sound, holding still for a moment after the sound has long since faded. One can tell that the sound still resonates in her head, being analyzed for tonality, intent, and above all, danger. She doesn’t even bother to glance at her surroundings; the building’s own internal symphony tells her all that she needs to know about this place.
With the faintest movement, she expertly plucks a single string on her instrument and the double doors in front of her blast open. She enters without hesitation.
The darkness unfurled around her, as deep as the endless chasm of silence that afflicted her. She felt no fear so long as the guzheng was in her grasp. Her arms curled lovingly around the instrument, her fingers expertly trailing along the hammered brass and taut strings. Pressing it against her cheek, she closed her eyes and waited. It was at times like this that she could feel the instrument alive in her arms, taking slow and measured breaths as it guarded its master. She treasured these moments, when she could be alone in the world with her beloved instrument, wrapped in its protective cocoon.
Suddenly, the guzheng stiffened. She caressed the smooth curve of metal questioningly. Before she could cull an answer, a husky voice rang out.
Esor’s eyes flew open at the only sound she loved more than music itself. She found herself at the doorstep of an old estate, staring into the open doorway with the same wonder on her face as on the day she was brought to her new home. Aratsel Nekon stood before her, adorned in a handsome velvet suit. Dripping in jewels and his usual heavy cologne, Aratsel moved forward, his round face bright with happiness. “My darling, look at you! You are a grown woman now, and you have made much of yourself.”
Aratsel embraced Esor and leaned back to appraise her.
“Truly, you have made me proud. My heart sings when I look upon you. Come in and sit with me awhile.”
Aratsel turned to walk down the long hallway, his footsteps clicking a staccato rhythm on the tile floor. Esor’s heart swelled with happiness, and she reached for her instrument’s reassuring steel.
Her hands clutched nothing but air.
Esor turned, looking for the guzheng. Had she mindlessly placed it aside just now?
Suddenly, a chord rang out, piercingly askew. Esor spun around to see the guzheng drifting swiftly down the hallway. Esor called the instrument back to her, but for the first time, it paid no heed. The single note played over and over as it drew closer to Aratsel’s back.
It was out for blood.
Esor flew frantically into the hallway, but she was too far away to reach Aratsel in time. Her only chance was to scream a warning. She strained her throat, but no sound would come forth, just as it never had in her entire life.
The guzheng’s strings strummed a terrible noise that would forever be embedded in her memory. A vibration trembled through the air, and a rush of razor-thin air scythes tore through Aratsel’s body.
Esor reached Aratsel's side in time to catch him as the body fell to the ground in a pool of blood. Tears streamed down Esor’s face as she tried to scream, but no sound would come out.
The hallway dissolved into blackness, leaving Esor crumpled around Aratsel’s body, with the guzheng lying innocently at her side. Aratsel’s eyes rolled open, and he asked weakly, “Why did you go against the Earth?”
Esor’s mind reeled, unable to comprehend what was happening. Suddenly, she felt the tingle of arcane magic in her throat, an overwhelming sensation that brought tears to her eyes. The breath passing in and out of her body tickled inside her, trying to draw sounds out with every exhale. Esor stared incredulously at Aratsel, who nodded at her and bade her to speak.
Opening her mouth, she began to speak for the first time in her life. Her breath caught in her throat, short of uttering her first sound, when a booming voice from the recesses of her dim memory resounded in her mind.
This instrument will be the key to unlocking the world. It will speak for you more truly than a voice ever could. Nothing else – not us, them, or any magic in this world will ever own you again.
Almost of its own accord, her hand flung outwards and slammed down on the guzheng next to her. Dissonance erupted, deafeningly loud, drowning out any sounds that might have spilled forth from her lips. As the tones faded away, so did the foreign tingling in her throat. The enchantment was gone, never to return.
Aratsel’s voice grew loud, booming into the ether. “Why did you go against the Earth, Esor?”
The guzheng’s strings shivered and began to play on its own, but Esor pressed down with her palm to silence the instrument. It resisted for a tense moment and fell quiet. Slowly, her fingers began to trickle across the strings. Hesitantly at first, testing her instrument’s yield, she played a defiant progression in response to her question.
“How does it feel to expose your heart, your mind?”
Her fingers danced across the strings, urging forth a melody of loneliness and isolation. It was the song of those who had lived their lives hidden in plain sight, always passed over despite trying desperately to be noticed. It began pensively, mournfully sad, and gradually grew to a crashing, raging crescendo. The last notes echoed with a tone of quiet acceptance, but above all, catharsis.
A smile raked across Aratsel’s face. “Welcome to the Cohlwood Space Penitentiary, Maven of the Strings.”
Aratsel disappeared, and the darkness fell away to reveal Esor floating in front of ornate double doors. She knew they led to the Cohlwood Space Penitentiary.
Her guzheng molded reassuringly to her hands, lying in wait for its master’s command. Esor moved through the doors without a second glance.
Toxic Night Blade
· Thu Dec 05, 2013 @ 04:06am · 0 Comments