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The Calling (7) : A beautiful melody drift on the air from somewhere far away. The vocals are in a language you don’t quite recognize, but feel somehow familiar to you. Something about the song calls to you, but no matter where you go, the song seems to sound the same distance away. The longer it goes on, the more emotional the song becomes--and the more emotional you become. Something about the song is possessive and consuming, like it’s all you can think of. Something resonates in you as the song crescendos, and the feeling is at its strongest--be they good, bad, anything, but suddenly the song fades, and there’s only an emptiness inside of you. The feeling of loss is strong, and can leave someone feeling emotionally numb. Someone out there was calling to you, and you couldn’t find them.
The first time Beira heard something on the wind a few moments ago, he hadn’t thought much of it. The little Star Charm he'd picked up earlier had jangled from where it was attached to his uniform, so at first he thought it was just that--until the sounds became a little clearer. Then, he figured it could have easily just been someone listening to music--some party going on. He tried to focus on the task at hand--on being powered up, on practicing his magic. On figuring out what was wrong with it.
But, the music continued, nagging at the back of his mind.
More than that, the music was getting louder--but he wasn’t moving. There was something almost painfully familiar about it, but he didn’t recognize the language.
At all.
It demanded all of his attention; he couldn’t focus on his magic, so he stopped to listen--and couldn’t stop listening.
In his heart, he knew this song. He could predict when it was going to get higher, lower. He didn’t know the words, but he knew they were coming, and he strained again to try and summon the memory this song must have originated with.
Nothing came up. He couldn't imagine anything.
But it was gnawing at him--clawing at his mind, demanding attention.
Beira gave up on his magic and focused instead of finding the origin of this music so he could ask what it was.
The wind was carrying it from somewhere; he traveled a good few yards North to try and figure out what direction to go in, but...it didn't sound any closer. He went East--the same.
He kept going, but the music wasn't getting any louder or clearer.
It was getting quicker, though. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and a strange desperation was kicking in as the song grew more powerful. Beira walked quicker.
It wasn't quick enough.
Beira ran.
It wasn't quick enough.
The music kept climbing, and he could feel it in his heart, in his blood. He didn't know it but he did, and it was like the answer was dangling right in front of him and he couldn't see it.
None of this made any sense, and Beira felt like he was being tugged around, like he was putting his full effort into this and had nothing to show for it.
He needed to find the origin of the music, needed to know what it meant.
Anxiety was clawing through him as he charged through the forest; the music wasn't getting quieter, but it wasn't getting louder either. He didn't know if he was going in the right direction but no muscle in his body would let him stop.
He couldn't hear the world rushing around him, couldn't hear the branches brushing against him as he ran through the forest--he could just hear the song.
And then, it stopped.
It felt like his heart stopped; he froze. He lost all energy and came to an abrupt halt, suddenly keenly aware of how loudly he was breathing. His muscles were burning and he didn't remember when he poured all of his energy into finding the origin of the music, but he felt the disappointment of losing it when it crashed down on him.
The music was gone.
The sensation of failure was strange--not foreign, but powerful.
He stood in darkness, surrounded by trees, and wasn't even sure he understood what he'd lost. He just felt it.
