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Elizabeth Atory had traveled for a long time now, years as far as she knew – ending up in this strange world well before the destructive events overtook it, and well before the sky had dissolved into nothing. The bard had lived where many had died, had allowed no one to take the harp that she carried with her, and kept on going in this strange world she could barely understand, where the corpse of old machines that once moved without steam and old building made of foreign substances made up the landscape.

But she had survived, if barely at times, and when she had recovered, Elizabeth had continued on, if only because her family's hopes and pride rested on her shoulders. The harp, carefully bundled and resting across her back, was the only thing she had left at this point, and she had to, at the very least, see that task done. She had promised it to her mother, on her deathbed, that she would find the person whom it belonged to.

The goddess whom it belonged to.

Elizabeth had always thought that was a silly story, something her mother had made up as a bed side tale to gently lull her to sleep with her melodious voice, the tale of a goddess and her harp, golden-stringed with a material that was foreign, a goddess of music and song that was like a gentle maiden from the fairytales of old. A goddess that had died such a long time ago that no one remembered her name or her existence, beside the person who had been entrusted her harp – which had then passed down from generation to generation, from mother to son, father to daughter, bard to bard, ever since. The harp would only play for the goddess' fingers and no others. Elizabeth had stopped believing in it as she became older, but her mother, in her old age, told her it was her turn now, to try to find the goddess whose name had been forgotten, and hand it to her.

The harp.

She had never seen it before that night, three years ago, when her mother passed on. It was beautiful, cherrywood carefully carved with such amazing skill that could not simply be found in the other instruments she had seen. The harp had been unbelievably light, too, which actually allowed her to travel as she did, with it carefully strapped onto her back. It's strings were golden, shimmering to the slightest light. It was only after weeks passed, after her mother had been returned to the earth and that her feelings of grief had eased that she actually bore the thought of looking at it in greater detail. That she dared reach her fingers to pull at the strings.

No sound had came out, and it was then, and only then, that Elizabeth started to believe. That she started to think that, maybe, after all, that story... might have some truth to it. Which meant that she had to find this goddess, no matter what, if only to honor her mother's last wish. It was not like there was anything else keeping her here, after all.

Perhaps it had been that sheer determination to accomplish just that that had given her the strength to live though the waves – it was the only way she could explain what had happened – and though the renewal that came afterward. The bard had lost her companion, the one with the skill to world-walk, quite early into those waves, and she could only hope - pray, even - that out of the many places they had visited, that this was the right one. The brown-haired woman started to hear of gods, as her travels progressed. Many god and goddesses who dwelt here, had been the ones to save the rest of the worlds from a certain end. It was the first sign that she might, indeed, be on the right track, that the bard just might find what she sought. There had been many who called themselves gods in those other worlds, who wanted nothing but to take the harp, but it refused to play for them, and so Elizabeth knew that they were liars.

And now, after three years of searching, after so many bones broken and mended, so many sicknesses endured and healed, the tall woman stood in front of a large garden which seemed to know no end.

The pantheon, the city dwellers had called it. What more fitting name, for a place which held gods. Was one of those beings, there, the goddess she sought ?



Elizabeth spent many days nearby, watching the activity around the pantheon, melding in nicely enough with the other mortals that had taken refuge here. Sometimes she caught glimpse of truly usual things, of beings that made her heart race and caught her attention, stood out from the rest of the crowd by their mere presence. These were gods, and she could believe it, with some of them. There was a sense of power about them, beyond her comprehension.

It would be on that day that the last three years of her life came to full circle. Elizabeth saw her descend the stairs, alone, one step in front of the other with a grace and elegance of a skilled opera singer, her features alien yet more beautiful than anything she had ever seen. Strings, golden like the ones of the harp, wound around her arms and behind her as if it was some kind of tail, long strands of something she could not identify adorning her back as if some kind of wings. Her eyes, blue on blue, moved with every step, every sound that came out of her form. Sound and melody followed her like an aura, like a faithful familiar, only waiting to be called and truly unleashed.

And it was at that very moment that Elizabeth knew she had found what she had been looking for. The woman saw her, looked at her, and there was the urge to advert her gaze, as if she could not dare look directly into those eyes. Instead, she knelt.

”I...” She started, but could not find the words, at first. They jumbled into her mind, and refused to come out right.

”Are you well... ?” The goddess asked her, worry creeping into her voice. That voice... pure harmony, pleasant beyond anything the bard had ever heard. It was like if the goddess sang every word that passed those purple lips.

”Yes.” Elizabeth finally managed. How could she not be, when she had finally found what she had been looking for ? What her family had been looking for, for so long ? Out of all of her line... it was her that had managed it. The bard was certain, now, but still, one thing remained. ”My lady, please, allow me a moment. I have come from far away... to bring you something that has been entrusted to my family's name in times long forgotten.” It was only then that Elizabeth moved once more, carefully placing the instrument on the ground and pulling the cloth off. It looked much too big and hefty for her to carry, but it had been light as a feather. Even now, after the influence of decay, the instrument remained every bit as beautiful as it had once been, the cracks of the wood melding with the design.

Echo's eyes went wide, at the sight of the instrument. Recognition or surprise, the mortal bard could not quite tell. Those eyes were so foreign... ”I come to swear fealty to the Lady of Music, as my ancestors have before me. I come to serve the one person who can bring this harp to life...”

Echo took a few careful steps toward the instrument, unaware, or perhaps uncaring, of the many pair of eyes that watched this scene unfold. Elizabeth still did not dare to look up, as if she was afraid of what might happen if she dared.

One hand reached to caress the curves of the woods. It felt familiar... it felt right, moreso than the mortal-crafted instruments from which she had to withhold most of her power lest she accidentally damage them. It seemed to call, silently, beg to, at last, be played again.

This hand moved, toward the strings, and, gently, pulled one of them. Elizabeth's head darted up automatically when she heard sound come from it, crystal clear, more pure a sound than any mortal-made harp could produce. It was followed by another, and another, the note weaving one melody, full of emotion, of gladness and happiness, and the bard had to blink away the tears that clouded her vision, clouded her sight of the goddess of Music and the one instrument that had been rightfully hers.

At last... her journey was over. She was home now, or at least what would become her home.

The melody eventually ended, as all melodies did, and Elizabeth looked to the floor once more when the goddess' attention returned to her. ”My goddess...”

Her chin was gently taken into a slender hand, her head tilted slightly to look at Music, the goddess' expression full of gladness and kindness. ”You need not to advert your gaze so. Your respect you have already shown me, by coming all this way. I... thank you. I am named Echo.” She had thought this lost, this instrument. She remembered it well, now that the memory had been awakened by it's melody, but could not recall it's name. Echo would need to find it a new one, perhaps, in time. ”Do come with me... You seem to come from far away indeed, and some food and a bath look like it would do you much good. Then, if you like... you can tell me your story.”

Catching Up

She had finally been able to find some time of her own – children visiting Ankou and Cosine, and none of her mortal followers nearby. The quarters that were usually so lively were now strangely silent.

Not completely silent, of course, because she was still inside them, the tune of her wings humming gently as she cleared the desk of her music room and gathered the supplies she needed.

Paper. Pens. Rulers.

Echo did not write out music sheets all that often, and it would probably be surprising for anyone to know that. The fact was that she did not need sheet music at all. The goddess' memory for notes, harmony and compositions was infallible.

Therefore, the work she was about to do was not for her own benefit. No, this was for Cosine – for her school project, in fact. The mortal children still needed education, somehow, to assure their future. They would learn of numbers – but why not of music, as well ?

Some of these young minds might very well be the musicians, the bards of tommorow.

When she was sure that she had all the supplies she needed, Echo sat into the wooden chair and started drawing out lines in ink. Cluster of lines, five per cluster. The base. She had no pre-made sheets, so she had to make her own. It wasn't too much of a bother at all, but it took for time. She made many, more than she would likely need today, in order to keep some on hand should she one day need one quickly.

When she had a small pile of thirty sheets, she took one and started drawing notes.

The first one was simple, perhaps already known to some who would preuse them: C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C. The basic notes. From these notes, everything could happen. The young minds would need to learn how to read and use these, first of all, before embarking any deeper into the world of music, and instruments.

...They would need instruments, though, it occurred to her belatedly. This was likely to be a little more complicated – perhaps something Allysia and Elizabeth would be able to help with. The resourcefulness of the former never failed to surprise her, and the latter... well, she still had much to learn about the young bard.

Then, she embarked onto simple melodies, easily recreated by beginners. She'd likely whispered them to mortals, a long time ago, when the world was still young, and now that circle started again – a violin piece, a flute piece, and a piece for the piano came to live under the goddess' pen. If anything, they could serve as examples until instruments could be found. Sturdy ones for small, clumsy fingers... or maybe bigger fingers as well. Who could tell what the future might bring ?

To spread her art once more, to whisper inspiration at the ears of mortals once more...

The next three sheets were the same base instruments, but more complex melodies. And she continued, writing down notes amazingly quickly, making melodies on the fly and remembering some that had lingered in her memory, only waiting to be awoken again.

Echo continued that pattern for hours, until she had 5 sheets for every instrument. This would be enough to start out, she decided – after all, her children would be home soon, if the clock on the wall was accurate.

She'd better get ready for them – she made three piles, one for each instrument, then made it into one, with the base scale on top. Hopefully, they would wind up useful for her friend.

((Note – some of the musical terms in this post might be wrong, and I apologize. I learned a whole different set of words and notions, being french. If I did mess anything up, please let me know and ill correct myself.))