Canto II

"I cannot believe you. Leave me - at once!"

Orpha wept, bitterly. But only to herself. She had to keep up her countenance.
For her father. For the others.

For Orchus.

Those were my last words to him. And now I'll never see him again.

The gongrouns galloped fiercely, carrying Orpha and her father, Talus of Balchion, swiftly through the night air, past thick groves and shimmering lakes.

Orpha looked up, searching the sky for an answer.

It was a common Ethronian practice to watch the skies for meaning. For answers. For hope.

But tonight, there was only darkness. No moons were visible in the heavens.

No Jenno. No Arinn. No Talua.

But...every night there is a moon. Every night a sphere to give us light.

Yet no orb hangs in the sky.

Fear seized Orpha so greatly that a small sob managed to leap out of her throat.

Talus, sensing the pain deep within her, turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Daughter, what pains you so?"

Orpha looked away. "Nothing, Father. It is of no consequence."

"Everything is of consequence, dearest Orpha." He paused, letting the rhythm of the gongrouns hooves fill the void.

"This world is in peril. And we have to save it. You must be strong for me. You must be strong for our people. And most of all - you must be strong for Orchus."

At the very mention of his name, Orpha lost all restraint and let the cascading rains fall from her face.

"Father, Orchus and I had a fight, before we departed Kenont. We were disagreeing on a most trivial matter. I can't even remember what we were fighting about!"

She collapsed in her father's arms, weeping and convulsing - her tears staining his regal shawl. Turning his head to survey the other passengers, he quietly led Orpha near the front of their gongroun.

Talus was a Posyche, trained in the arts of telepathy and the Senses. Before the Expedition had landed on Ethron, he had served among the Greater Magistrate Ring - the governing body on the planet. But, he thought, what does my former life and skill matter now? If we do not secure Grave Mount, all will be lost.

Gently but firmly, Talus focused his mind into Orpha's and began to hum a sub-octave pitch, peering at her heart and spirit, letting the waves of sound bring forth the contents of her being.

A deep sense of regret and despair flooded his being so quickly that he instantly broke the mind-link. The hummed pitch literally cracked, causing a sound which sounded like a large branch being snapped in two.

Orpha looked up. "You've never disengaged a mind-link that abruptly. What's wrong? What did you see?"

"Pain. Despair. Lack of hope. Chaos. Orpha - you are on the path to Hollow." His face was grim but laced with concern and sorrow.

Hollow? No! No, it cannot be! I am to be joined to Orchus!

This cannot be! My life - my dreams! I will not allow myself to be j-

And with that, consciousness fled her and she collapsed.

Talus, catching her in an instant, laid her gently against some robes that were scattered nearby.

He sat down next to her and sighed. The last of the Balchions softly sang a quiet arpeggio for a moment, finishing with a soothing dual-tone. He lovingly placed his hand on her head before departing.

"I have not misconstrued the truth to a single Ethronian in my entire life. But, my love, I had to. You need to believe you are nearing Hollowness. Our very survival depends on it."

The pack of gongrouns continued their impressive, thundering gallop through the Wilderness of Jekoa. Talus stood up and moved to the edge of the riding platform to search the sky.

"No moons. It has been many, many cycles since no moon graced Ethron."

He shook his head.

"Jaccarin is fading. I hope you are alive, Orchus. And I hope you are ready."

Message Two - Desecration

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---To Orchus, the Keeper,

Jenno and Arinn weep tonight.
Light the torch. Send for the song.
We have no time.
The birds cannot fly fast enough to send wo?? to you.
Come and save us.
Demons are watching us, our every mo???

Though our efforts have been valiant, Pales continue to land upon Ethron.
Our communication systems were discovered and have been shut down.
I am jeopardizing my safety by sending this transmiss???? but we desperately need you.
Orchus, you must fly - and fast. Jaccarin cannot withstand this onslaught.

We have secrets don't we, Keeper?
And we keep what we own.

I saw Orp??. She is well, pining for you as always.
Her family was en-route to GM. She will survive this ????? I am certain of ????.

Our Magistrate has been annihilated, as they stormed our Chalenjard.
Orchus, the things they have done to our people and our land - it is an abom???*???.
But I hear them coming. I must flee.

We ??????? ???? ???? ??? ???? ???? ???? ????? ???
Our?????? hope ?????? ?????

Please, Orchus...come soo??

?? ??? ????? ?? ??? ??????

Your lov??? sister,
Calua

P.S. They are sending their forces northward, along ???????????????????????????????????????/

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Canto I

Each night a moon hangs over Ethron. Sometimes, there are three pallid spheres in the night sky.
Long have the inhabitants of this dark planet revered each moon for guarding the night from the day. The people of this world have always understood the shadows and how they offer protection. Yet, they also made use of the suns, Helion and Hekkra, to engineer their great marvels.
But Ethronians understood that their moons - Jenno, Arinn, and Talua - also gave them a unique ability, unlike any other creature on their planet.
They gave them the ability to sing, and with this ability, melody sustained their existence.
Three times a day do these dear creatures sing with all their might.
Singing to their lovers.
To their families.
To life. To death. They sing.
Those that refuse to sing are forgotten in the annals of time and space, fading from existence as though smoke being blown by a gust of wind.

***

Orchus crouched under a table along with the others that had fled the Chalengrad.
Among the suvivors had been his brother, Juko, and closest confidante, Yartimo.
Juko had the countenance of a warrior but the disposition of a saint. He would often frighten others with his muscular body and chissled face, but upon meeting him, Juko was most often the favorite at any social event.
Yartimo was as his profession - a monk. He had studied the religious writings of his people over the last thousand of years as well as their sacred songs. As a result, Juko towered over the small stature of Yartimo. Yet the monk had a soft complexion and dressed in robes, accurately depicting his loving and serene personality.
Orchus, the Keeper - as he was known, was a mid-size Ethronian. He was to be joined to Orpha, a prominent daughter of Talus, governor of the Eastern Kingdoms. His hair flowed down to his shoulders, which caught the eyes of many women in towns. But he only had eyes for Orpha.
The most startling but reassuring aspect of Orchus was his golden eyes. Though Ethronians are of a tan complexion, golden eyes are only found in those of who possess three gifts. He knew the first two - Song and Prophecy - but was never told the third.

A loud sound sounded against the overgrowth that was supposed to conceal this underground safehaven. Then another.
"I wish they would refrain from making such noises - it pierces my ears," groaned Juko.
"I wish they had not come at all," trailed Yartimo.
Orchus looked at them, eyes glowing golden, and motioned for silence.
In a hushed tone, he said, "Silence, brothers, for we know not their perception. We can hear well, that is certain, but these may be able to see, smell, and hear far greater than us."
A thought crossed his mind.
"They might even be able to read our minds."
Juko returned the fervent stare and nodded. Yartimo did not look up.

Another loud noise pierced the uneasy air, causing all three to jump, hitting their heads on the table above them. Then voices. Many voices, all at once, started speaking in unison.
Orchus' ears perked up, straining to hear what they said.
"Stay here," he said as he inched his way toward the hutch that led to the aboveground.
As he neared the entry, his mind began reading the language in his head.
"R-a-mm". He listened again.
"Ram."
He paused, unsure of the meaning of the word. The troop seemed intent on getting to their prey, which worried Orchus.
"Orchus...what are they saying?" whispered Juko.
"They are saying 'Ram' over and over. Do you know what -"
BAM!
Orchus rocketed back underneath the table with the other two. His heart raced and mind whirled. "What was that?" he squeaked.
Juko and Yartimo only blinked. Another deafening slam.
"They are determined to reach us."
"We will be unable to defend ourselves."
"I did not even have the chance to bid farewell to my mate..."
Orchus grabbed each of them and held them tight.
"We will not die here. This is our world, not theirs. We may have forgotten how to fight, but I promise you, this will not be our end."
With that, Orchus crawled across the floor to the opposing wall, some ten feet away.
The entire shelter was more of a cave than a dwelling. The roots of plants, each with its own distinct color, covered the ceiling. The walls were completely Ethronian soil.
The entrance had been a grotto, leading to an underwater cave system. When the shelter was built, the cave system was barricaded to stop the flow of water.
Orchus was fervently searching for the map of the cave system.
"They left one tunnel open for just such an emergency. At least I pray they did."
He feverishly searched book after book, tales of centuries past and the great heroes of the World War, but found nothing containing the information he required.
"It's not here, my brothers. And without knowing, we may very well die in the caves. Either way, we are at an impasse."
Juko crawled over to him, then placing a hand on his shoulder, spoke softly "It's not your fault, Orchus. You have never led us astray, and we will gladly give our lives this day with you."
Yartimo remained where he was, shaking.
The moment was shattered yet again by another crash from the door, this time much louder.
"They breached the first wall."
"Two remain until we see them face to face."

Orchus began to pace. "We must...kill them."
Yartimo looked up. Juko grasped his brother violently and shook him.
"No, Orchus, we have sworn not to kill! 'No Bloodshed, No War. Only Peace.' You have sworn by that oath when you became part of the Vanguard."
Orchus threw off his brother. "But this will not be resolved peacefully. These dogs do not understand peace. They take what they want and will destroy everything in their way. We must stop them, even if it results in their death."
Juko staggered back as more loud noises continued to break further in.
Yartimo, suddenly, joined the two of them in the center of the room.
"Orchus, are you not a Songson?"
"What kind of question is that, Yartimo?"
"You have deep knowledge of song, and yet you know not how to rid us of the Pales? You have broken your oath by vowing to kill them. You are free from the Sanctions on Songs."
Those golden eyes began to light anew, gleaming with hope.
"The song of pain, the song of sorrow - all that has been forbidden for years is no longer."
CRASH! The voices were directly outside the last steel door, raging all the more.
Juko began to hum a dissonant chord, weaving up and down in perfect rhythm.
Yartimo took the upper octave, humming in perfectly synchronized harmony with Juko.
The result was dizzying. Orchus felt his head throb.
The Song of Pain was used in the World War against enemies as a primary attack.
When one heard this particular song, every location - every space of your being - began to stab as though millions of spears were being thrust into your body.

It was a horrifying way to die. Covering your ears only made your descent into death slower while only reducing the pain slightly.
But, being a Songson, Orchus had learned to channel the sound waves around his body in a way that deflected all but one percent of the pain. Unfortunately, the one percent remaining would affect the mind and if subjected to more than 60 seconds of the song, even someone as skilled as Orchus would perish. As for Juko and Yartimo, extensive training in humming allowed them to focus only on the chords, creating a small barrier around their minds. Since Orchus would be singing the melody, he would be forced to concentrate on the very thing that would kill his enemies.
Hopefully kill his enemies. He didn't know if Pales would be affected as Ethronians were.

The latch broke and ten Pales spilled into the room.
"You shouldn't run from us. We're not here to hurt you," the leader said.
Orchus remained motionless, trying to focus the pain away from his mind until he was ready.
The invaders looked at the two hunched on the floor and began wincing in pain at their music.
"Would you two stop that humming? You're giving me a horrendous headache!"
Just a few more seconds and I will be ready, he told himself.
The pain on the human faces began to worsen. "My head is going to explode if you don't stop that singing!"
A tall red-haired man pointed his weapon at Juko. The Ethronian made no move.
"Stop it! I can't take it anymore! Are you trying to kill me?!?" His finger reached for the lever.
Orchus made eye contact with the red-haired man. "That's the idea."
The Keeper of Song opened his mouth and the room became crimson.
Stanzas of death and war in twisting melodies and soaring pitches bombarded the humans, making several flee in sheer terror. Up and down the pitch went, so violently that Orchus had to kneel from the pain he was experiencing.
The leader and his remaining men began to beat their heads against the wall in an effort to stop the pain. But Orchus continued on, singing of betrayal and disgust, of injustice and of violence.
He sang so fervently that he began to sweat his own blood as well as greatly fatigue the valiant Keeper.
The humans laid on the floor, crying and screaming in agony.
Here comes the end, Orchus thought.
He climbed a complex scale and then landed on a climactic pitch and held it for a full twenty seconds. It was longer than any other held note he had ever sung.
Stop singing, Orchus, Juko tried to convey through his face. You will not last.
You are over a minute, Orchus, pleaded Yartimo through his eyes.
As if in answer, the sound from Orchus' mouth ceased and the Keeper fell on his back, coughing and sputtering blood.
The humans laid on the floor, motionless and without breath.

Juko and Yartimo rushed to lift their brother and carried him out of the shelter and to a nearby grove of trees. They laid him on a slab of stone that was positioned in the middle of a clearing.
Orchus was badly hurt, his eyes aware and darting widly, but unresponsive to his commrades.
"Orchus, hold on." Juko began humming again. Yartimo immediately joined in.
The Keeper closed his eyes and smiled, letting the night melody lift his spirit and body from its utter despair. Juko took the melody, letting the wind of the trees inspire him to sing of homes and warm fires. He sang, with Yartimo accompanying, about the love of people and their kindness.
The song of Healing had been long used to cure everything from terminal illness to a homesick child. As the song finished, Orchus was breathing normally and the bleeding had stopped.
"Are you ill, my brother?" Juko pressed, but in a soft tone.
"Yes, Juko. I will be just fine. Let the light of Jenno comfort me a while longer, and then we shall make our way to the Southern Sea."
Juko nodded and went to keep watch at the entrance to clearing.
Yartimo held Orchus' hand. "I don't know what we would have done without you, brother."
Orchus clasped back and smiled. "That's why I didn't pass into death, my friend."
Yartimo smiled back.

I almost did, though, Yartimo.
I will need to be careful for both of you.
And for Orpha.
And for Calua.

Message One - The War Has Begun

To the one called Orpha, daughter of Talus in Balchion:

I pray that you, dear one, are safe.
War has begun here. All but a few of the Task have been completely massacred.
They drug them into the streets, spitting and cursing foreign words at them.
I, though skilled in words and tongues, hardly did understand their speech.
It was foul, as if their very souls lashed out at our brethren. And then, without warning, these demons ordered all of them on their knees.

I was certain, Orpha, that this was their end. But these monsters had not yet started with our people.

These pale creatures gurgled something atrocious, something horrible that sounded like...laughter, yet so very flawed and dishonorable that it made my skin crawl.
One produced a long rod-like object that gleamed in light of the moons.
I must confess, dear Orpha, that I was taken by the sheer beauty of the thing.
So smooth. So perfectly crafted. These foreigners had great power.
The rod was then pointed at Jaqui.
More horrible laughter.
The creature's hand moved toward a small lever on the rod and...
I cannot continue. The acts that I have witnessed today bear so unspeakable to my mind and my soul that I am unable to form any explanation of what has transpired.
Jaqui is dead, Orpha. They are all dead.
These Pale Ones are abominations. The city of Rona has fallen. I suppose, though, it is of no surprise. We have sworn off war. We have never had war. We know nothing of these "weapons" as the Pale one called that rod.

But there is a resistance mounting, dear Orpha, and I am leading it.
Do not buy the lies of the Pales, these "Expeditionaires" as their leaders call themselves.
They approached Rona peacefully. With smiles.
They gestured for an audience with the Magistrate.
They offered bright objects and volumes of books for new learning, Jaqui told me.
But when the mongrels heard us singing in the Chalengrad, they went mad.
The Magistrate tried to explain, even though either side could scarcely understand the other, but nevertheless the Expedition became enraged. Vowing to do away with "native song", a ban against song in our region now exists.

Life...without song? We simply cannot survive without song.

I must leave off now, for I hear rustling above our underground.
We managed to escape the Chalengrad safely, but a small troop of Pales followed us.
I fear this may be my last stand.
I have always loved you, Orpha, and I pray these will not be my last words.
But, in light of my bleak situation, the resistance is mounting on the Southern Sea, near Grave Mount. Head there with your family. I wish upon the stars and moons that I see you there soon.

We've always known that peace would not last forever.

With all that I am,
Orchus, Keeper of Song