NOT Earth - Tuesday - Day 10 - 17 May 2021

  POV: Sandra

  This definitely was NOT Kansas anymore. One moment, I’m wrapped up in a heartbreaking stroke of melody and the next, I’m walking through a shimmer. My bow caught the E-string as I stumbled forward, the bright sunshine of Virginia immediately giving way to dreary mists. I couldn’t see my feet through the soupy fog that clung to the ground.

  Everything was gray. No matter where I looked or in what direction, only foreboding silence and seething drifts stretched out before me.

  “How the hell did I get here?”

  Turning my core and head while keeping my feet planted, I looked behind me. No evidence of a glimmer or passageway that I’d slipped through. I held my bow up and poked behind me. Narrowing my eyes at the lack of feeling, I swung it back and forth.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” I whispered. My hair fell into my eyes and I tucked it behind an ear only for it to fall again. Tucking my bow into my armpit and my violin between my knees, I pulled a small tie out of my pocket to wrap it up into a ponytail. “Grant! Hello!”

  No echo. No response.

  “Probably shouldn’t shout into the void.” I said softly, picking up my instrument again before pausing. I could see my body holding the violin and the bow, but I couldn’t feel it. There was no sense of pressure or cool slickness from lacquered wood.

  “Am I even really here?” With a thought, my Status Screen popped into existence in front of me confirming that I was in this weird ass reality. I hadn’t looked at it in quite a while and the changes caught me off guard.

  “What in the actual f-?!”

  Not only was the screen glitching out, but it was even more translucent than normal. WWGD. What would Grant do?

  “Stay calm, you got this.” Keeping my voice down was smart but I had to talk aloud. The surroundings were so alien that I needed something to anchor me.

  “I can’t feel anything, Status Screen is on the fritz, but I can see and I still have my violin but I don’t know where I am.” My voice trailed off as I read the Status Screen again. “Labyrinth Resonance Detected. Oh you gotta be KIDDING me!”

  That’s the thing the dwarves traveled through to get here.

  “Stop! What would Grant do?”

  My eyes fell down to my violin and bow.

  “He would start testing shit out. And use those exact words too.”

  With a flex of will, I floated up a foot into the air and gently set back down. “Okay, mind powers are still working. Awesome. Next . . .”

  My wooden armor creaked as mana flowed through me and it, small flowers popping out at the seams.

  “Cool. So the easy stuff is still here, which means I’m technically not at square one anymore.”

  My eyes fell again to my violin.

  “Which means ITS YOUR FAULT!”

  The Status Screen popped back up again, this time glitching in and out of view as I read it over and over.

  “This has to be the Wayfinder ability.” I reasoned, tapping my foot. “And if that’s true, and I’m in the Labyrinth, and if Grant is right about Traits and Abilities being tied to each other, then more terms for the Labyrinth are ‘Ways’ and ‘Veins of Yggdrasil’.”

  The mists shook, as if a kid grabbed a snowglobe and turned it once before setting it down quickly. Just enough to rattle the atmosphere.

  My breath caught in my throat. Expanding my mind sense did not reveal anything new. No monsters or beasts coming out of the woodwork. Long minutes passed as the fog roiled on itself like a soup left too long on the stove.

  “I don’t like it when things get weirder for no reason.” My fingers curled around the neck of the violin but I couldn’t even feel the reassuring pressure as my chin sat in the chinrest. Testing it out, I put the G-string underneath my nail and pushed, trying to see if applying pressure would let me feel that little bite of pain. I pushed harder to the point where I knew it should hurt but it just didn’t. My tongue ran across my canines for a second before I bit down a hint. No pain there either.

  “If this is how I got here, then it’s how I’ll get where I’m going.”

  The taut strings of the bow lay gently on the violin as I breathed deep. As my breathing evened out, I pulled on the bow, sawing back and forth into a perfect scale.

  Once. Twice. Three times.

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  The music disturbed the fog in the distance, the roiling picking up in intensity as the rhythmic scales rolled straight into the same song I was playing when I got myself into this mess, ‘Poor Wayfaring Stranger’. Gray mists took on shades of purple and black, slowly approaching me as I rolled into the ‘Ashokan Farewell’. My thoughts ran ahead of me as I played on autopilot.

  Is it emotion that drives the music? Or the other way around? What exactly is the ticket here? I could hear Grant’s voice in my head. ‘Just try it out’.

  Flipping the script, I jarred the music, screeching the bow before flowing into ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’. Laughing at the incredibly easy song, I played it over and over until I noticed a teeny speck of light above me. It glimmered, as if letting me know that I wasn’t alone.

  “Huh.”

  That gave me an idea. ‘Carry on my Wayward Son’ came to mind, the melody flowing from my soul to my fingertips. The intro stirred the mists even more as I stomped to the imaginary drums. As I lost myself in the music, the fog around me stirred . . . solidifying . . . resolving into dull walls with passageways.

  Flickers of light and sound carried through them as a realization hit me. My music doesn’t just open the doorway to my soul, but it serves as the gateway for me. My ‘Wayfinder’ ability shapes itself according to the emotion I feel.

  I needed happiness. I needed joy. I needed to feel.

  Rock n’ roll gave way to Vivaldi. Winter played, the staccato frenzy required absolute control removing all need for thought before transitioning into the dancing rhythms of Spring. It was in Summer that the music spoke to me, pulling me forward away from the spot that no longer led to home and instead towards a passageway that barely hid the soft glow of summer’s light. Soft rumbles of thunder heralding a gentle storm beckoned me forward and I knew this is where I wanted to go.

  ********

  The passage of time was definitely off. I couldn’t tell if it had been hours or days. Sometimes, I would end up in overcast meadows with beautiful trees just begging me to put down roots with Little House in the Prairie vibes. Other times, I glimpsed portals into Hell itself, nothing but fire and screams sending me shaking into the darkness like a leaf that fell too close to a forest fire as the wind carried it away.

  I feared for my violin, its delicate body weakening as my magic flowed through it. At first, it was strong and vibrant but now, in my hands, I could see the wood thinning. When I flicked the body, I no longer heard a nice thunk. It was higher pitched, hollowing out even more. The hairs on my bow were starting to fray. All I could think about as I played was, ‘Grant could fix this’. In a jiffy, he could hand me a brand new version of my beloved instrument that I’ve played for almost two decades.

  This power scared me though. In the Labyrinth, I played through songs that I knew and knew well. I’m going to have nightmares about this for years. In playing, ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’, I absolutely crushed the part of the band of demons playing against Johnny and the Labyrinth seemed to move on its own.

  Before I knew it, I stood in front of a massive door. Chains bigger than navy ship anchor chains kept the door mostly shut. My violin hung forgotten in my fingers as the demonic metal faces on the door writhed in silent agony, shrieking a soundless cry of endless torment. Smoke billowed out in desperate puffs from the cracks at the top and sides as something tried to escape, the door bowing out towards me. The chains clanked, holding fast against those trying to escape.

  Even worse, the door exerted a pull. The floor beneath me slowly dragged me forward as the doors opened the barest sliver of a crack. I could see the blue and orange flames licking through the seams. Screams of the damned were only interrupted by the roar of the boiling heat and chuckles so deep and slow that I almost fell.

  Nerveless fingers gripped the violin so tight that I thought it would break but I couldn’t destroy the only thing with the power to get me out of here. My telekinesis kicked in, picking me up and hurling me away from that Damned Door as fast as I could move.

  I only got so far before the Door reasserted control, slowly, inevitably pulling me back in.

  Without thought, I shakily pressed my bow to the strings of the violin and played a screechy note, sawing until muscle memory soothed the motions. Old hymns popped into my head and I played them. Over and over.

  It worked, but not enough. The pull only slowed down further but it didn’t stop.

  I just couldn’t put any joy into the songs. All I felt was fear. Absolute terror looped around my neck, assuring me that my destiny was in fact, behind that door. Little clawed hands sprouted from the metal chains on the door, grasping in my direction as the eyes on the demon faces began to take on their own light. My music wasn’t enough to break free. My ability to float and fly wasn’t enough to carry me away.

  Fear itself was the chain and despair the force reeling me in.

  I thought of my husband. I don’t know what he would do. I don’t think he’d have an answer to this problem. I wished I could just fly away and be in his arms again.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. I took a deep breath, and started singing.

  “Some glad morning, when this life is o’er, I’llllll fly away.”

  My voice steadied as I hit the chorus, my hands coming together to play the smooth notes. The simple melody took on a life of its own as I forced myself to play. Suddenly, the grip loosened and I shot further away. Closing my eyes, I played harder, adding in more and more feeling, my voice singing the harmony as my violin played the melody. The screams grew quieter with distance and the heat began to finally dissipate.

  I kept playing. I kept playing until I felt rays of light hit, a gentle warmth radiating through me. The wind rushed around me as my soul lightened, feeling refreshment for the first time since I entered the Labyrinth. Even my thirst and hunger faded away as if those were mortal cares that no longer served a need.

  Opening my eyes at the jarring stop, I turned to see the source of that light. This door scared me even more.

  Massive double doors taller than buildings framed in rose silver loomed menacingly. A fear, deeper than the one facing Hell coursed through me. Crowds of people lay strewn about, most sleeping but a few kneeling with their hands held up high. They sang in broken voices as tears coursed down their cheeks. The agony here was different, a forlorn loss of rejection and abandonment. I expected everyone to be banging on the closed doors but I saw why they wouldn’t.

  Golden lions with three sets of wings were set into the doors, their tails of fire twitching back and forth like an actual cat observing a mouse. Above them, throngs of alien rings covered in eyes and wings and a fire so yellow and bright that it was almost white stared down at the crowds of people in judgement. They didn’t flit across the doors, they slowly moved, examining all that lay before them in excruciating, exacting detail.

  It took everything I had to look away from the doors radiating both a welcoming warmth and painful disappointment. The contrasts pulled my soul in two different directions and again, I couldn’t move. The lions licked their chops and the eyes focused on me. Merciless light of inevitable judgement began to radiate with greater intensity until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “Peace child of the Silver Eyes. Do not turn around. Close your eyes and calm your mind.”

  The voice was soothing, an overlapping set of harmonies as if three choirs were singing at the same time.

  “You should not be here. Your time has not yet come.”

  That hand gently pushed me away with the kind guidance of a father steering a small toddler away from a swiftly flowing river.

  “This place and your Will resonate. Let it take you elsewhere.”

  Respectful obedience welled up within, an odd set of emotions for a human to feel. But something within me paused.

  I was curious.

  “Wait!” I said softly, my voice barely a breath in the odd stillness of the moment. “What are you? Where am I? How did I get here? Can you help me? Please?”

  The silence became heavy. Another hand fell on my other shoulder, turning me completely around.

  “Grasp your mortality. Let the music of your heart steady your resolve.”

  I felt a push as ethereal hands moved my hands for me, placing my bow on my violin. Playing the first thing that came to mind, I hummed as the words played through my mind.

  “I’m only human after all, only human after all, don’t put the blame on me.”

  The Labyrinth pulled me away as inhuman words echoed behind me.

  “Not quite, child. But close enough.”

  ********

  The lyrics from Rag’n’Bone man pulled me far away from the celestial trap. As the wails of the rejected faded away, my feet touched down and the walls of the Labyrinth solidified. Tunnels branched out again, almost appearing from nowhere.

  Another tune took over, ‘Home on the Range’, the longing melody plying memories of warm bread and summertime peace back on the farm near Richmond where I grew up. Riding horses and chasing chickens.

  There was nothing like it.

  Instead of floating, I walked down tunnels that meandered up and down as much as they curved. Set into them were doors, most of them secured with large iron locks. A few were chained up to the point where I couldn’t see what kind of material the Doors were actually made of. Few and far between were just hanging wide open, the images of what lay beyond not resolving into anything unless I got real close to look through. More than once, I stopped playing to hustle past Doors where explosions or screams of bloodshed rang out.

  I didn’t know if the Doors were one way so I kept moving. I could get a sense of what lay beyond, a feeling that sounded like a note as I approached. Some were tantalizing, hidden whispers of fantastical promises while others hummed a lullaby of peace and harmony, a paradise of a simple life just a step beyond.

  Strings on my bow began to snap as I kept playing. Some Doors exerted an almost inexorable pull, Fae-like allure teasing me towards the portal as if someone was calling out to me personally. Only hammering out a screech cut the pull allowing me to float away. Like sailors stuffing their ears to avoid sirens singing them to their doom on hidden rocks, I played more and more, fastening my heart to the tunes flying from my fingertips.

  I played it all. All the music I’d ever learned. All of the classical music my mother forced me to memorize. All of the pop music that Youtube musicians translated into orchestral pieces.

  It flowed.

  Another bow string snapped.

  My time was running out.