Deadly Music

Sara played beautiful and deadly music. The notes came out clear and sharp, a violin among the dead. Men’s war-hardened cries struck less fear than her fine oak bow. Cords so deep they shook the very earth followed by ones high enough to shatter metal. A medley of disaster resonated forth. Her bow, which cut down many men itself, was covered in blood yet still she played her eerie tune un-phased. For the moment all were dead and at rest. It was her solo that had shifted the tide of battle, for now. Surly the other side would soon bring out their main attraction. Things would then get truly interesting. If life was a dance it’s only fitting that Death play the tune, and she was playing many men’s final song.

Off in the distance waves of sound issued forth, inaudible, but Sara could sense them. They were covered in blackness as foul as the devil itself. For the first time her steadfast face showed emotion, it was fear. She knew what was about to occur. Her pleas for her fellow warriors to retreat went unheard. They marched forward, stepping on the dead as they moved. They were ready to take the enemies main encampment. Why would there be any need to retreat, the opposing force had been obliterated.

The dead began to stir, friend and foe alike. Her comrades began to fall to the ground, confusion swept across the ranks. Screams filled the air as teeth and claw tore and rent the living. Over half fell in an instant. The remaining strong began to stab wildly at the ground. But it would not help, not while the moon was in the sky.

Sickened, Sara fell to her knees. Only a few soldiers were left, reserves to protect from a possible raiding party on their camp. There was no chance to reach the enemies heart now. Her only goal was lost. Why wouldn’t they heed her warning? Waves of sickening sound still blasted past, wrenching her stomach all the more. She had to get a hold of herself. The dead slowly rose. If she didn’t regain focus, she would soon be surrounded by the hordes.

After cleaning off her gory bow, Sara prepared herself for the finest performance. Slightly relieved, she no longer had to restrain herself, her tones were free to flow, for there were no longer any allies to worry about; nothing to get in her way except the already dead.

Violin firmly tucked under her chin, bow rose to the ready, eyes closed to visualize the song, she began. A solemn long high note with altering pitch issued forth. All of her most destructive songs started that way.

Seemingly unnatural black clouds filled the sky. All light was cut off. No moon and no stars. Only the low pitch moans and limp dragging sounds gave any hint of existence. Blocked off from sight the violinist's sense of sound increased. Asmara’s blackened notes were coming from the enemy encampment, but there were also hints of vibrato notes coming from the east. Sara cursed under her breath, fighting one was bad but two was suicide, even if one was a puppet to the will of Asmara; found and captured by her evil powers.

It had been many years since three great musicians gathered. There was only one left unaccounted for. If the fourth showed up then all of the Teacher’s students would be present. He took on four; only and always four. He taught them the most beautiful music on earth. Then, once they became masters, he crafted specialized violins that brought out the artists inner strength. Then he taught them the most deadly music.

They were trained to inspire and bring about a golden age of creativity. They were to be the music in the background; Unknown individuals helping the people. It was a life for the people. They were trained to protect at all costs, even in war. They were deaths right hand in life; the four students the fingers and teacher the thumb. When curled into a fist, none could stand the blow.

However, one of the fingers went against the hand and severed the thumb. The traitor wanted a life in the light. She wanted to exploit her powers and work against the teachings. She assassinated the teacher and took his most powerful black bow. Through her perverse actions she gained control of the dead. Her inner voice called out to the damned. Asmara must be stopped.

The remaining three students tried to band together and defeat the outcast, but she proved too strong. They learned of Asmara’s tremendously evil power in that showdown, long ago. They learned of her ability to control the minds of the living, and the bodies of the dead. Just as one of the sister’s minds was being taken over the other two saved her and fled. They all agreed to separate and never use their powers again, for if any of them were to be taken over, the side of evil would be nearly unstoppable.

The only way to never be caught was to never play their instruments again. Each could sense where the other was playing, so even a few notes could give away their general direction. But it doesn’t matter, as it seems now at least one of her fellow sisters has been captured. If the other one has been taken too, then there would be no hope.

Not that there was much hope left as it was. Standing in the darkness, masses of undead slowly heading towards her, she would have to start swinging blindly.

A dull red began to show behind the cloud cover. Brighter, brighter, and brighter still it grew in magnitude. The air hummed with absolute power. The clouds began to bubble and fold upon themselves in a sickly attempt to retreat from the fire arching across the heavens. It appeared as if the clouds were reaching out for help as the fire ravaged them. Small and tendril like the shrinking masses desperately searched for a non scorching region of space. They would find only another blast of heat.

A great cry sounded behind Sara and the sky exploded in a final blinding flash, forming a great fireball. It arched to the east. The ground shook as it impacted. Any trace of vibrato notes ended. A small figure could be seen standing upon the top of a nearby hill. Her final sister made it to the performance. She arrived in grand fashion, just her style.

With vision restored Sara went back to work on the fallen. With accuracy not being of complete importance she allowed herself to slip slightly. It had been a long day and Sara was making slow progress, each note losing precision. There seemed to be an unending number of creatures. Unsure on how she was going to continue mustering her power the air began to hum once more, which sent waves of relief through Sara.

She lowered her violin as madness was unleashed. A tidal wave of fire began at one end of the battle field. Violently it ripped its way across, nothing slowed its movement. Matter ceased to be. Creatures were lost under its mighty roaring. The fire snaked away catching all within it. It appeared as a river of divine flame killing everything unnatural. The sister’s heart was in sync with her power and Sara could feel an all too familiar weakening as the smooth hum became erratic and spiky, pushed past the bounds of life.

Her epic display of strength was paid in equality. Sara peered back to find the outline of her friend falling to the ground. Sara bowed her deepest for her fallen comrades performance.

The deathly black notes also fell silent.

With the way charred clear Sara marched on. Her sister’s sacrifice would not be in vain. The desired location was not far ahead. She really had gained much ground before Asmara decided to take action.

A most interesting duet was about to commence. Heart and bravery would clash with greed and selfishness. If shear power decided who would win, the battle would already be lost. Sara had skill and finesse; she had mastery and understanding. Asmara lacked Sara’s level of knowledge.

It had been silent for far too long. An eruption of sound sent Sara to her knees, her bow and violin crashing to the ground. Her mind exploded in pain. Images of Asmara flashed in and out. Her skull pulsed to the waves of noise. Her mind was being taken over. Her grip on reality began to slip. Colors bled together, the defining sound became a distant side note. Her burning passion and undeniable need for retribution were slipping.

Desperately Sara felt around for her bow and violin, one last attempt to defend herself. Her body felt numb, she was unsure of what she was grabbing. In her current state it would be impossible to sit up, let alone play any notes. It didn’t matter, she had to try. Clumsily she continued to feel around.

Her hand passed over her bow a few times, the stings cut her slightly. The pain returned her, if only slightly. She concentrated on the stinging; felt the warm blood pooling on her forearm. Vague outlines returned to her, allowing for the location of her bow and violin.

She tried placing the instrument under her chin, but it fell to the ground. Sara knew she would never be able to play in her current condition. The moonlight glowed off of her red tinted bow.

Sara began to make shallow cuts on her arms and legs. The night air stung them so badly. Her blood flowed freely down her body. Not enough to kill her, at the moment anyway. She bent down and grabbed her violin firmly.

The dark tendrils of Asmara’s conjuring could be seen as Sara started playing. Slow, low notes created a protective barrier repelling any dark lashes. Her playing began to dull slightly as she became light headed. Her escape from Asmara’s grasp was quickly catching up with her. Blood loss was reaching dangerous levels.

Sara would have to take an offensive stance to get out of this one in time.

Rapidly changing notes, changing pitch, changing note lengths Sara sent out a barrage of forces cutting all in their path. Her fingers moved so very quickly, the strings began to cut and irritate, though she didn’t dare slow her song. The darkness was being cut down, severed and evaporated back into the night.

Sara’s fingers ached with every new note played, her arm burned with every stroke of her bow, her head became increasingly cloudy with every second she spent not treating her wounds. She wasn’t going to make it. Sara knew Asmara was still at full strength and was just playing with her.

It was time to play her final song.

Only one sister was taught the gruesome tune that called the keeper of deaths gate.

The song would only work if she was inches from death. Only then would her sounds make it to the other dimension. He would easily hear her summons.

Sara began to pluck a complicated series of notes, an ancient code that would connect their realities. Without her protective barrier or her slashes of energy there was nothing to stop the dark conjurings from striking. Once the ritual was started however, nothing could harm the conduit, the musician. The lashes had no affect; it was as if they were striking stone. Adsf

The combination was completed. A presence emerged in front of Sara. It had no physical form, but radiated energy. One of the black tentacles lashed, passing through the energy force. A chain reaction was set off, causing all of the tendrils to explode, particles dissipating back into the darkness.

“I desire power.” was all Sara said.

“You know the price?” There were no words, just a strange connection in her mind.

“Yes.” She used the connection to relay the answer. The force flew inside of her. Instantly her wounds were healed. She was strong again. Each step she took was one less moment Asmara had to be alive. Sara could sense Asmara's exact location. She could feel her. There was fear. And soon there would be death.

Sara blinked out of existence, and reappeared a few feet from Asmara. A tremendous jolt of energy was sent at Sara. She calmly flicked it away with a wave of her bow. “Your time here is at an end, dear sister.”

The fear Sara had so truly felt moments ago had evaporated from Asmara.

“You fool. You called the gate keeper to take me? I command the dead!” She started to laugh.

“No one controls me!” Sara shouted, but it was not her voice that came out. The gate keepers rage boiled up.

“No I don’t, but…” A dark purple cloud began to form around Asmara. “You are no longer protecting the gate!”

“She’s forming a demon pact” The gate keeper yelled through the mental connection. “Strike her down now!”

Sara threw her bow making contact with Asmara’s head. A sickening thud sounded as it passed through, logging itself halfway in. A freakishly large and inhuman smile was frozen on the dead Asmara’s face.

It was done. She had completed her goal. And now it was time to pay the gate keepers price. As the powerful force left her body, it fell limp to the ground.

The gate keeper led her soul to the underworld.

The world of the still living was now missing the great musicians. Their violins were all that remained. The violins and bows were useless without a properly trained owner. The secrets would be lost for all time.

Each violin remained silent.

Except one.

The dark bow pulsed out.

It called for a poor soul to pick it up.