I wanted to write a fanland too
>Katy: Write self-indulgent bullshit
“You continue to be terrible and write much more than is necessary for such a simple task instead of simply asking someone else to write for you. Better hit Create Post before you decide against it.”
You cross your land in silence, as always. Back home, a trip anywhere would mean music, either playing from the radio or steadily pouring into your waiting ears from your phone. But here, everywhere you go, the soft sound of a song, half-forgotten but half-remembered, floats around you as a gentle comfort. You once spent a full morning (or what felt like a morning, at least; perspective of time was all kinds of messed up in a world that had no sun) trying to figure out what it was, but every time it was on the tip of your tongue, the song changed just subtly enough to elude your grasp. Now, you don’t waste your energy trying to remember. You simply appreciate its presence; it calms you. Visitors to the Land of Fountains and Melody had similar instances, you remember that much. Except for one good friend, the Knight of Sound, whose eyes went wide with raw realization as soon as he realized that soft background music was there, and when you tried to inquire as to what was wrong, he refused to speak. You haven’t seen him here since.
You head towards a known goal, boot-clad footsteps lightly pressing upon the surface of the water below you. To your surprise upon entering the Medium, the water in the Land acted solid for the purposes of moving across it. And of course, you were inundated with Jesus jokes by every other Player that entered your land. You suspect it only behaves this way for Players, however; a neighborhood cat had accidentally hitched a ride into the Medium on the back porch of your house, and when your sprite began to bark incessantly at it, the cat instinctively turned tail to run and ended up landing in the water. You went to pull it out, but it abruptly vanished before you could, accompanied only by a brief flash of jet black from an enemy imp. It took Matt a couple of hours to calm you down after that, bless his heart.
You toss a glance down at the water as you walk, watching your reflection waver and shimmer back at you. No matter where you are in the Land, the water is completely reflective, giving absolutely no glimpse into what lies below. And yet you have never attempted to look, preferring instead to stay above the water. A nagging thought at the back of your mind, like a persistent itch, continually reminds you. It seems like the best way to be surrounded by horrorterrors, to hear what should never be heard. You think of people drowning, terror clawing at their throats while they thrash helplessly in the water, and of the imps that rise from the mirror-like surface to attack, dark and menacing. You think of the tentacles of larger monsters, rising every so often to lash at a passing consort before vanishing without a trace into the water again.
No, you most certainly do not want to investigate.
The Melody continues to wrap itself around your ears as you progress. Birds flutter around you, chip-chip-chip-ing at each other as they frolic in one of the many Fountains across the Land. You realized very quickly upon entering your Land that these Fountains also served as birdbaths for the many white canaries that take up residence here. You pause to watch a canary snatch a chunk of bread out of the air as food inexplicably erupts out of a fountain along with the water, landing neatly on the ground and staying perfectly dry, despite floating in water. Video game physics is strange, indeed. After you had managed to fix their food relays and lower the water level enough to reveal more Fountains and more areas of refuge, the canaries took the habit of following you around as you walked through their gathering points. As you pass through one of these points, the canaries flutter around you and land on your shoulders and head, chip-ping happily. The first time, you felt like Jane Porter emerging in a land of red and orange birds. The fantasy of it wore off quickly, but the happiness of being surrounded by happy, soft birds never quite did. You oblige them with a smile, kissing one on the head before crossing past the boundary of their ‘village.’ The canaries chipand flutter around your head one last time before returning to their Fountains, a swarm of white flying in a land of blue skies, multicolored flowers, and a sky of staffs and music notes.
You turn your broom over in your hands, feeling its weight on your palms. Alchemized with a Super Soaker and a rifle, your Boomstick has been a valuable weapon throughout the game. You had doubted your accidental strife allocation at the beginning, but both the bludgeoning and piercing capacity (as much as the dull handle end of a broom could pierce, at least) of your brooms have proven useful time and time again. It was a good choice. It certainly clashes with the aesthetic of your costume, but you don’t really mind that. You brush out a wrinkle in your dark blue flower-patterned skirt and continue to walk.
You can hear your phone blip at you, familiar tunes from a monster-collecting video game that bring endless delight to you in such an unforgiving world. You remove it from your sleeve and check Pesterchum. Of course. They were going at it again in a public memo. When were they going to realize people could see all their arguments? You replace your phone in your sleeve and move on.
You pause as you near the central Fountain of the Land, an elaborately-carved marble structure with multiple smaller spouts of water pouring from it. Sometimes when you feel truly at peace, the notes of the music appear in the air. They float through the air like light motes, casting ethereal spots of color across the water, and it is always these times that the canaries, as white as snow, gather together like clouds and trill along with it. But now, you have more important goals in mind than the respect of beauty.
One of your Land quests had revived this fountain; it had previously held only still water, and the canaries living around it had gone without fresh water for who knew how long, for no canary dared to venture towards the water that made up the ground of their world. More quests had been necessary to strengthen the spray, raising it higher and higher. And as you repaired this fountain, more and more canaries gathered, filling the air with soft white. But now, the spray of the fountain reached towards the heavens, casting a fine, glistening mist throughout your field of vision, and the soft, comforting sound of chirping canaries seems to follow you even into your dreams.
It is time.
You step up onto the edge of the basin, watching as the canaries all chip-chip in unison to the soft music that pulses in your ears. You step across the water, just as always, and with a deep breath to still your nerves, you step through into the spray. It carries you up, up, up, and you attempt to still your nerves as you go. Eventually the spray reaches its peak, and with a sharp breath, you leap off and onto a floating circular platform just next to it. It hums quietly in pitch with the soft Melody of the Land as you straighten yourself up. You return your broom to your strife deck and smooth the wrinkles from your skirt. As you clear your throat, humming lowly until you match the Melody, the symbol to match your Destiny slowly appears. It strengthens until it seems to pulse, casting a bright glow over your head. For the first time since you have entered your Land, a breeze begins to blow.
And the Sylph of Breath begins to sing.
Sylph of Breath in the Land of Fountains and Melody, with broomKind and white canary consorts that like to ‘swim.’ At least two references, one obvious, one much more subtle to avoid being blatant to the point of cliche or irritation. Written predominantly to this music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxsy1C0HNpw (Take caution for possible spoilers.)