Distorted Harmonies

I watched as the petals fell from the branches above, my arms pushing against the ground in a desperate attempt to lift myself higher. I groaned, slipped, and crashed back onto the ground in a messy pile. With a frustrated shout I pounded my fist against the floor, right into the growing puddle of blood beneath me. I squinted as the sun began to rise over the horizon, my attention instantly snapping to the golden fruit hanging from the tree’s lowest branch above me, taunting me as the only thing of worth in this damned grove. ‘If only I could reach it,’ I thought as I stretched my torso as high up as I could, my hand outstretched and just barely grazing the fruit.

“Come on, ugh,” I shouted, a groan of pain escaping me. “Of course, of course I just had to lose my legs when I am so so close,” I muttered, my mind filling with dread the more my heart slowed down. ‘If only I hadn’t run into that Csich-damned Fraeborne in those woods,’ I glanced down and winced at the bloody and broken mess my legs had become in that encounter, my dread turning into anger. I snarled as the head of the Fraeborne began to turn to ash in the light of the sun, its horns glimmered and an idea came to me.

I bent down and grabbed the skull as well as my bloodied hands could, I gasped in pain as I felt the Fraeborne's corruption begin to invade me. I mustered my strength and gripped the Fraeborne’s horn, pulling as hard as I could. I ignored the pain flooding my senses and focused only on my survival. I ground my teeth together and pulled one last time, relief filling me as the horn broke off of the Fraeborne’s head with a resounding crack. The beast may have taken my legs, but I would not have become the High Mage of Zitaria if I allowed such an inconvenience to hinder me.

Focusing my rage, I shouted, “Shikru voshi vantre!” The sky above me darkened in an instant, tumultuous lightning flashing throughout the clouds in ever-changing colors. My blood below me trembled uncertainly, then as though something decided for it, it tore itself from the ground in twisting ruby red tendrils alit with the shadow-tinged gold of forbidden magic. The remains of the Fraeborne that hadn’t become ashes quickly burst into ashy flakes of red, gold, and black. With a mere thought, the flakes were corralled by the wind and joined the tendrils of blood, becoming spires of twisting shadow-tinged golden waters in an instant. The water lunged towards me and ripped into my skin, the forbidden magic filling me, twisting me, changing me.

I screamed in pain, the clouds above me thundering with potent electricity as I felt my skin twist and pull, my bones fracture and regrow, my horns crack and thicken. With one last cry, the magic slowed to a stop and slouched against the tree, my legs shaking beneath me. ‘My legs…’ I gasped out and opened my eyes harshly, my vision blurred but my new legs were as clear as day. My robes had torn and my body was now covered with an exoskeleton, sharp white protrusions covering and protecting every inch of skin and ending in pitch black points.

I smiled and stood up to stretch, my bones and exoskeleton popping as pockets of air were filled with newly formed bone. I walked forwards and sighed, happily ripping the golden fruit from the tree. As soon as I did so, the trees around me screeched in pain, their branches quaking and bending low with murderous intent. I giggled and with a snap of my fingers the water in the air around me created a protective cocoon, effortlessly shredding the wood at its very structure as they crashed against the cocoon in a blind rage. With a swift movement of my hands, the cocoon gripped me and lifted me far into the air, beyond the tree’s range.

“This spell better work considering what I had to go through to get you,” I muttered to the golden fruit in my hand as I rose above the cover of the clouds. The cocoon dissipated and I stepped onto the clouds, my magic instinctively forming steps with the cloud’s condensation. Looking towards the sun, I measured its distance to the horizon with my hand, my smile growing sharper now that the sun had reached the necessary position. I bit into the fruit, my mind overloading with countless flavors and I groaned in ecstasy before gathering the leaking juice with my hand. I drew the twisting shape of the rune ‘Rinash’, pride filling my chest as the juice of the fruit stuck in the air and began trapping the light of the sun within it.

Darkness began consuming the world around me and I stood still as the distant shapes of my homeworld began to fade. In moments, I stood alone on endless clouds surrounded by stars, watching as each star blinked out of existence, one by one until the only light that remained was the light trapped inside of Rinash. I clapped my hands and the rune exploded, bathing me in golden light. The light flooded my being, burning me right down to my soul. But I stood there, intent on seeing it through. Gritting my teeth, I reached up and cupped the light, thinking only one thing, ‘I will never return to this Csich-damned world again’. My vision faded, sleep overtaking me.

My eyes blinked open slowly, my senses filled with noise and smells that I had never even thought possible. There was a scent like burning skin with a hint of sweet fruit wafting through the air and endless streams of mechanical animal cries. Once my vision cleared, I recoiled in shock. All around me were tall buildings of black rocks with yellow accents. Beyond the buildings was the unmistakable sight of a cavern’s rough. Wherever I was, it was clearly underground. That fact alone filled my mind with satisfaction; there wasn’t a single piece of the underground in Zitaria left uninhabited by Krivians and their architecture was nothing like this. I spun around, taking in the sights and the smells before rushing to the parapet to look down. Far below me there was a bridge full of strangely shaped mechanical beasts, each one filled with varying amounts of strange and unique upright creatures.

“Yes… this is exactly where I want to be…” I breathed in deeply, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow of my success. I was finally free of the tight confines of Zitaria, free of its suffocating expectations, its endless demands that I limit myself for the sake of others. My smile grew wider and I spread my hands, feeling the weight of this new world settle into my palms. “Csicho.” The word slipped from my lips in a quiet breath and the energy within me crackled with anticipation. The water in the air around me glimmered with a faint magic before changing course and flowing into the sky. The water coalesced and formed massive spirals of dark thundering clouds. I smiled, happy to see that my command was still perfect in this new realm.

I inhaled, feeling my magic build up within me and spread outwards, corralling the magic of this new world into obedience. For a moment, nothing happened. The clouds continued swirling above me, lightning zapping across the shadowy shapes. Until a tremor spread throughout the clouds, the lightning sparking furiously and the wind picking speed. I felt as the magic wrenched out of my control and twisted furiously, a resounding snap filled my chest and I groaned. The magic surrounded me, the storm above twisting into something far beyond my control. The air pressed against me, tight and coiling, heated. I gasped and struggled to breathe, and, in desperation, I flailed my magic around. I was a High Mage of Zitaria, I brought the oceans into tranquil obedience, yet I could do nothing to subdue the magic of a simple storm.

With a groan I muttered, “Csicho,” my pronunciation was slower, softer. Like I was practicing the runes back in the Zitarian Archival of Magic. I, the High Mage of Zitaria, was forced to practice runes like a lowly Zirn, and still, the magic resisted me. Ignored me, as if I were some powerless welp. The air crackled with lightning, and I snarled out a loud and harsh, “Csicho!” A perfect mimic of the lowly Zirn I had once taught and despised. Then, the clouds tightened together, forming a ball of condensed storm energy. Powerful bursts of lightning struck at random as the ball spun closer and closer to me, to me! As if, as if I had done anything to warrant an outright attack from such lowly magic! I froze in fear and rising panic; my magic would not work here. But still, the condensed storm drew closer, growing larger, more menacing. I huffed and raised my arms in a desperate attempt to stop it before it could reach me.

“…Why,” I gasped and coughed, the air in my lungs struggling against the binds of this mutinous magic, “do you not obey?”

But then, the orb burst, the clouds dissipating and the lightning calming back into nothing. There, where the center of the storm had once been, shone a bright silver light around a descending figure. A man, as handsome as the god of breath and skies, Ishe, was once depicted to be. Long curling golden hair flowed in the air around the man and his skin looked as smooth as silk and as sunkissed as the Elutian fruit I loved as a child. The man stepped onto the ground in front of me and I watched as wings of silver light fluttered, six long feathered wings along his back and one large group of silver feathers fanned out just above his rear. On his head were two silver-tinged black horns curling into the shape of a heart. The only thing he wore was a white flowing robe, cut to show the skin of his sides and with a slit down the middle of his legs. The fabric fluttered around his legs like soft clouds teasing at the existence of the brilliant sun. My earlier observation was wrong; this man is far more beautiful than any depiction in Zitaria could ever hope to be.

When the man spoke, his voice carried softly through the wind a deep and soothing tone, “I do hope you’re alright.”