Chorus / Book I / Chapter I
It is Cold Outside.
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warnings: very mild language
significant characters: Tawkerr, Maggpi, Bowgart
summary: Strange things are afoot in the shattered world of Cantilyra, and a mysterious pair of siblings have appeared out of nowhere with no memories of their past. Tawkerr and Parlsona awoke on Plant Island together, but the distress of their situation is getting to them, and uncontrollable oddities seem to fellow the two wherever they go. Without explanation, Parly has fled Plant Island, and Tawkerr sets off to a wintry land across the sea in search of his sister.
snowflakes are gently falling,
each one on a journey.
~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~
Tawkerr • Jan. 1st
Tawkerr awoke with a start to the bite of bitter cold on his skin. Drowsy and disoriented, he drew his cloak tighter around his shoulders, fingers aquiver in the chilling wind.
For a moment he remained still, trying to collect coherent thoughts from the stirring slew in his aching head, and then he finally remembered just what he was perched atop and why he heard the roaring of waves all around him.
He lifted his weary eyes to meet the back of Bessie’s long, azure neck and sighed, leaning back against the saddle strapped to her shell. “Aye, sorry, Bess…must’ve dozed off.”
The lamphrie craned her neck back to peer at her rider and crooned softly, slapping her fins against the water. Tawkerr sighed sleepily. “I know, I know, ‘s not safe…hey, where are we?” With a rub at his eyes, he suddenly realized the dichotomy between the freezing sting of the air around him and the warm, floral winds he was familiar with. “…Good Galvana, we must be a long way from Plant Island. How long have we been moving?”
Bessie trilled once more and tilted her head to glare at him.
“You’re the one who agreed to take me!” Tawkerr shot back.
Bessie snorted in a manner more reminiscent of a bull than an amphibious sea steed.
“Okay, okay, my bad…” Tawkerr yielded. “Are we at least near land, ya’think? With civilization, I pray…?”
Just as he said that, squinting his eyes at the horizon, he noticed the faintest, blurriest shape on the distance, peering right back at him from the fog. For what he could make of its size relative to its distance, it had to be big enough to be a proper island. “Speak of the devil!” He said breathlessly, fixing his frost-glazed hair and gathering up Bessie’s reins in his hands. “Pick up the pace, Bess! This may be where Parly’s run off to.”
Perhaps Tawkerr’s entire form was shivering and fangs chattering as he reached the shore, but however freezing he felt, the heat of his determination kept him moving forward. Bessie finally came to a steady halt, the swishing of her fins on the waves evolving into repetitive impacts against wet, icy rock. Tawkerr swung his legs off the side of the saddle and let himself slide down. An icy slush of frozen mud and gravel crunched beneath his boots as he hit the ground, stumbling at the sudden weight on his feet. “AH! Geez! H-Haven’t actually used my legs in a while, huh?” He laughed shakily, leaning on Bessie’s slick shell for support. “I’d better find some kind of building before I become a bleedin’ ramsicle…you alright here?”
Bessie gave a quiet trill of confirmation. Tawkerr patted her on the fin, then immediately regretted getting his hand damp, as the cold now bit at it harder than ever. “See you…wait for me here, okay? If I dont come back in a day or two, then… I-I don’t know. Gosh, I’ve probably got the king worried sick, huh?”
The lamphrie blinked at him sadly with her dark, wise eyes, as if to say “yes, you do.”
Without another word, Tawkerr tugged his bag from the saddle and started off, stepping over rocks and chunks of ice jutting from the ground as he headed toward the center of the island, where mountainous structures of rock towered above the sparse wintry wasteland and converged in a peak.
It didn’t look too terrible a climb, especially for someone as agile as himself, so he supposed it would be worth taking a look…
The world around him was now cloaked in a cold, murky gray, as if it had been dredged in a fine layer of bleakness and shadow. He couldn’t tell if it was day or night, as the sky was dark and cloudy all the same. He only spotted the occasional tree, and even those were bare and blackened, looking as though they must have been long dead. The further he walked, the more uneasy he began to feel…the chill settling into his bones and singeing his skin didn’t help. Suddenly he wished he knew pyromancy.
He kept walking.
Had it been only minutes? It felt like hours.
Still walking.
He didn’t feel any closer to the mountains.
And still he walked. He walked until he felt like he couldn’t anymore.
And then he reminded himself of his sister, and it kept him walking.
~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~
Maggpi • earlier that day…
All evening, Maggie had been counting. She counted each swing of the axe, each loud, crisp crack of the logs splitting in two beneath its blade. She had split 47 logs, now, and made 94 pieces of firewood.
Keeping track of numbers usually kept her mind anchored and stopped it from wandering, but nothing could pry her thoughts away from the worries in the back of her head.
Crack. 48 logs, 96 pieces.
She only now noticed how badly her arms ached, the subtle shaking each time she lifted the axe again, but she didn’t allow herself to pause. She couldn’t afford to think about anything else. But here she was, mind still racing.
CRACK. 49, 98.
Maybe it was just the atmosphere getting to her. Everyone had been acting strange lately. Practically all of Cantilyra knew about it; Irrational decisions, casters’ magic acting up, ferality at an all time high…Everyone she had spoken to about it agreed that they had been affected by it too. But what was it? Some sort of arcane anomaly? And it wasn’t like it was a select thing— Elves, humans, centaurs and tabaxi alike felt this inexplicable off feeling. Something stirring deep inside their instincts, causing them to just act…strange, overall.
CRACK. 50, 100.
Maggie paused. Her trembling arms let the axe fall to the ground without further prompting, and she plopped down clumsily against the side of the toolshed. Sweat trickled down her face, despite standing amongst snow and ice.
…Or maybe she was just sad and scared. Maybe she just wanted to know who she was, why she was here and where the hell Stoowarb was.
“Maggie?” A quiet voice piped up, piercing her thoughts. She lifted her head to see a familiar four-armed, blue-coated figure standing in the gateway of the yard. Bowgart gave her a nervous wave with three of their arms, using the fourth to fidget with their coat button. “Uh, hey. I…saw something?”
Maggie squinted at them, wiping her forehead with her sleeve and rising back to her feet. “What is it? You sound worried.”
“Well, I was just collecting berries for dye over by the edge of the woods, and I spotted somebody coming up the mountain from the east side. They didn’t look familiar…I know they may just be a traveler, but we never get travelers up here!”
Maggie furrowed her brow. “Odd. What did they look like?”
“They were a small fellow, with horns— sort of like you and your brother, but more thick and curly like a ram’s— with silvery hair. They were far off, so I didn’t see much, but they looked awfully young…”
Maggie felt a painful pang at the mention of her brother, but didn’t let her expression betray it. “Ah. I-I’ll go check it out, it’s probably nothing to worry about.” She picked up her axe and stuck it into the thick stump beside her, moving to step past Bowgart and out of the yard.
She stared ahead at the snowy landscape with hesitance, and for a moment the anger and fear crept back into her mind. She hated this. She hated everything about the present.
But once again, she told herself it would be alright, and it was just this weird phenomenon affecting her mind. She set off toward the edge of the thicket.
~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~
Tawkerr
Tawkerr had been told many times before that he was too stubborn, but now he was starting to see it himself. As he threw himself against a wall of rock with an exhausted groan, nestling into his cloak that seemed to provide no warmth, he finally realized he had probably bitten off more than he could chew.
…probably.
His numb fingers found their way up to the brooch around his neck, circling the insignia pressed into the gold plating, and he felt his throat tighten. He had to keep going. He was so close to the top.
But before he could rise, he went still, ears twitching at the sound of something, or someone, approaching. He didn’t know whether to be hopeful or terrified, so he just shuffled back against the rocks and stayed quiet.
“…I see you, you know.” A gruff woman’s voice sighed from out of Tawkerr’s view. An accent he didn’t recognize roughened the edges of her words, making them sound somehow coarser and growlier.
Tawkerr squeaked and stiffened, peeking out from behind the crags. Standing cross-armed before him was a stocky woman with a serious expression laid across her fierce green eyes. She had mahogany horns and fuzzy ears like him, but other than that, it felt like staring straight at his polar opposite.
She had warm dark skin and wild, silvery-mint hair that fell over her face messily, swaying slightly in the wind. She was dressed far more warmly than Tawkerr, probably because she actually knew what she was doing in this environment. She looked over the tiny boy before her and clicked her tongue. “You lost?”
“Maybe,” Tawkerr answered curtly.
“Care to explain how you got here? Hardly anyone visits this place willingly.”
“…Uhhhh. Is “big turtle thing” a valid answer?”
The woman sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you want help or not? You’ve got snow in your hair and look like you’re about to collapse. Look, I’m in a bad mood. Tell me your name and why you’re here or I’m leaving.”
“Fine, fine!” He scrambled to his feet and scrubbed his hands through his hair to find that there was indeed a fine film of frost coating it. How much could he even say about his situation…? He decided to keep it simple. “Name’s Tawkerr O’Charo. I’m looking for my sister.”
“Really?” The woman quirked her brow and looked to the side briefly. For a moment she looked genuinely surprised, but it faded into a scowl just as quickly. “You seem to be far from home.”
“…I’m…not all that sure where my home is.”
She was silent for a moment, then her head bobbed just barely in a short nod. “…Me neither, Tawkerr. Me neither.”
Tawkerr shifted uncomfortably. What was that supposed to mean? He rubbed his forearms anxiously and decided to throw in another snide comment to wave away the tension. “…You gonna tell me your name? Or was that just a one sided thing?”
“Maggpi.” She said briskly, then added “…call me Maggie. If you want. I don’t care. Now, as much as I’d like to leave you here, I’m shackled by sympathy. Follow me to the castle. We’ve got warmth and food, at least…or freeze to death, if you’d prefer.”
Tawkerr perked up. A castle! Maybe this place wasn’t all that different from Plant Island, after all? “The former sounds…mighty favorable!”
“Then keep up.” Maggie spun on her heels and started off into the crop of spindly trees that speckled the mountaintop.
• • •
Neither Tawkerr nor Maggpi spoke a word for the entire walk. Tawkerr’s throat was burning even more than usual with the cold, and Maggie simply didn’t seem like much of a talker.
Soon, though, Tawkerr spotted icy, crystalline spires shooting out above the treetops. The two broke out of the thicket and into an open space of pure white snow, riddled with footprints and shoveled pathways snaking between buildings. The bright expanse was mottled with many small cabins made from dark mahogany wood that stood out starkly like an arctic fox’s eyes amongst the white, along with a few larger buildings boasting colorful string lights and soft, warm glows pouring from their windows.
But most prominent, front and center of the town, was the castle— a breathtaking mass of sparkling, spiky sky-blue spires that appeared as though they were made from pure ice.
While not even a quarter of the size of Plant Island’s castle, It was a centerpiece that stuck out strongly amongst the more quaint cottages that surrounded it. Tawkerr stood for a moment, admiring the strange structure, before scrambling to catch up with Maggie. He felt a tug of hope somewhere inside him.
As they approached the castle, a four-armed figure in a blue knit coat came into view, standing stiffly by the central door and fidgeting with ten of their twenty fingers.
“Bowie!” Maggie called ahead to them, gesturing to Tawkerr. “This the guy you saw?”
“That’s him,” the Bowie person squeaked in a soft voice. They regarded Tawkerr with worried brown eyes and a small frown. “Is he alright? What’s he here for?”
“Told me he’s looking for his sister. We’ll get to the details later. Either way, he’s freezing out here. Let’s get him inside, okay?”
“Ah, yes!” Bowie agreed, pushing open the castle doors and scurrying inside. “You two, sit down in the lobby. I’ll get you some tea.”
“Oh. Thank you,” Tawkerr murmured, feeling a little safer already at the stranger’s kindness. Maggie led him inside as Bowie set off to another room.
The castle lobby was, again, rather small compared to Plant Island’s, but still a lovely sight. Gazing up at the center of the lobby allowed a view all the way up to the dome at the roof’s peak, with crystalline chandeliers hanging from either side of the ceilings formed by the second floor. At the back wall, a pair of symmetrical stairways overarched a massive hearth and met at the second level, where he could see many doors lined up— presumably guest rooms.
Along the sides of the lobby were carpeted areas filled with chairs, couches and coffee tables, a cozy sort of contrast to the striking and sharp beauty of the rest of the castle’s interior.
Maggie sat him down at one of the couches closest to the fireplace and handed him a thick, bundled-up blanket that had been sitting on a nearby ottoman, then plopped down with a sigh on an armchair across from him.
He muttered another thanks and buried himself in the blanket hastily. The inside of the castle was already much warmer than the outside, with the heat of the nearby hearth steadily seeping the chill from his bones, but the blanket was like a warm hug. The chunky knit material felt thick and fluffy on his pawpads, and the subtle flaws but visible care in the knitting led him to suspect that it was handmade. How charming.
Tawkerr leaned against the arm of the couch and let his weary eyes fall shut for a moment, comforted, even if it was just for the time being. He only shifted again when he had to restrain a purr from forming in his throat.
Maggie just stared off into the hearth’s flames distantly as Tawkerr basked in the newfound warmth, eventually turning to him. “Any better?”
“Yeah…god, ‘s cold out there.” Tawkerr rasped.
“Well, we are on Cold Island.”
“…this place is just called…Cold Island?”
“It’s an island that’s cold.”
“Ah. I suppose you’re right. I can’t say anything when I’m coming here from Plant Island.”
“…Let me guess, it has plants?”
Tawkerr chuckled quietly. “How’d you guess?”
“Hm. Just had a feeling.” The corner of Maggie’s mouth turned up just a tiny bit. Tawkerr feigned a gasp. “What? You have a sense of humor? Never woulda guessed that!”
“Are you usually this irritating?”
“Mhm.”
Maggie grumbled and crossed her arms behind her head, her fluffy, mint-tufted tail curling up beside her. “Well…welcome to our little town, I guess. I haven’t…been here that long, but as secluded as the island is, it’s a fairly nice community. Small, but close. And better than being stranded in an icy wasteland by a longshot.”
It was then that Bowie reappeared and set down a couple of ceramic cups filled with steaming, golden-brown liquid. “Here, that should warm you up. Let me know if you need more.”
“Thank you,” Tawkerr said again, but didn’t touch the glass. He eyed it cautiously as Bowie slipped back into the room beyond the seating areas. As much as he felt it would help warm him up, he couldn’t bring himself to take a sip for some odd reason. Why…?
“Hmm.” Maggie lifted the cup to her lips and closed her eyes, seeming to relax slightly for the first time. Slightly, but not completely. She sat back up and set the cup on the table with a soft clunk. “You said you were looking for somebody?”
“My sister,” Tawkerr affirmed. “We were on Plant Island before, but things have been…weird. Tense. Got into a big fight, she didn’t want to talk to me, and after I went looking for her the next day I found nothing but the fact that there was a hot air balloon missing…so, y’know. I took a lamphrie from the docks and decided to search, because the king couldn’t send out an immediate search party.” He didn’t mention the…other things. He couldn’t mention that.
“Jeez.” Maggie furrowed her brow, visibly concerned. “Does she even know how to fly a hot air balloon?”
“Probably not. She’s only 16. That’s most of the reason I’m terrified.” Tawkerr clenched the edge of the blanket to stop his hands from shaking. “…I’m really, really worried. I don’t want to think about what could be of her right now.”
Maggie nodded silently. “Well, we haven’t seen anybody new in town in the past few days except you. Especially not anyone in a balloon.”
Tawkerr felt his heart sink. “Oh. Okay…”
“…But we can ask the chief here to contact the other councilmen and see if she’s been spotted on any other islands.”
He sprung up again. “Really? You’ve got a quad council member here?”
“Sure do. Not the most influential, but he’s got connections. I imagine king Entbrat has started a formal search by now, huh? …why did you even go yourself if you know he’d send people looking anyways?”
“Because I knew it wouldn’t be immediate…? I guess. Ugh, my…my reasoning sounds stupid now that I think about it.” Tawkerr hid his head in his hands. “I-I sort of freaked out, okay? I was in a rush and it was all I could think to do. I’ve just been feeling—“
“Off?” Maggie finished for him.
“Yeah,” Tawkerr said slowly, giving her a bemused gaze. “…Off. How did you…?”
“Making quick decisions without thinking, being suddenly more short tempered and aggressive, bouts of confusion and distress…” Maggie went on, listing each point on her fingers. “…everybody in Cantilyra has been feeling it. There’s something out there that’s disturbing everybody’s instincts, but nobody knows what. It just started a few months ago, apparently. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.”
Tawkerr leaned back on the cushions. “That explains a lot. God, I…what’s going on?”
“We don’t know. Nobody knows.” Maggie folded her hands in her lap with a small shake of her head. “But it can’t be good.”
“Ah.”
“…Anyways, we’ll talk to Deedge. He’s the councilman around here. Since we’re such a small community, he’s fairly easy to contact and is close with the people, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble.” Maggie said. Tawkerr managed a small smile, glancing at his untouched tea. Something was off. “…Maggie?”
“Hm?”
“What did you mean earlier? When you said you didn’t know where your home was either?”
He noticed her tense slightly, gripping the arm of the chair a little tighter. “What did you mean by it in the first place?”
They locked eyes for a moment, both of their gazes skeptical…but slowly fading into recognition. Something about them both felt too similar. Different, but the same, like two sides of a coin. They both seemed to realize it— so many things that were far too alike. The plating on their horns, the gold undertones in their eyes, all their specific features that they didn’t seem to notice on any other creature in Cantilyra except one another— and most of all, their apparent situations.
Somehow, it felt like they were one in the same. A moment of mutual understanding dawned on the two, beyond words.
Maggie let her hands relax again. “How long have you…been here?”
Tawkerr’s eyes widened. There was no way she was referring to anything else. There was no way that was a coincidence. “You’re like me.”
Maggie straightened in her seat as well. “…You woke up a few months ago somewhere with hardly any recollection of where you were. With nothing but—“
“My sister.” Tawkerr finished.
“And for me, my brother.” Maggie murmured.
“…Wait, did your sibling—?”
“Go missing too? Yes. They— They’re on the lookout for him right now. His name is Stoowarb.” For a second, Maggpi looked as though she might cry, but she blinked it away quickly and pursed her lips. “I nearly did the same as you and ran off myself to find him, but the townsfolk have been monitoring me since I appeared here. Can’t blame them.”
“…What the hell, Maggie.” Tawkerr said blankly. Not a question, just an expression of pure bewilderment. How were they so similar? What was this? “…Who are we? Why is this happening?”
Maggie’s eyes told Tawkerr that she was equally baffled. She chugged down the last of her tea in one gulp before speaking again, and when the cup left her face, her eyes became cold, determined and steely again. “I don’t know, but it seems like we’re in this together. I don’t know if that’s comforting or disturbing.”
“Comforting, I think.”
“…I guess so.”
Silence.
“Alright.” Maggie started to get to her feet. “Let’s go talk to Deedge. Maybe then we can find out what’s going on.”
to be continued.
Glossary
Aurochian- a race of horned humanoids, which Tawkerr, Maggpi, Stoowarb and Parlsona belong to. Not many Aurochians still exist after the Worldwipe. Aurochians are split into two main groups, the Eldos and the Illmi. Eldos carry bovine and canine aspects and are known for their larger and sturdier builds, strong senses of smell, physical prowess and adaptability. Illmi are smaller in comparison, appear more ovine and feline, and possess high agility along with keen senses of sight and hearing.
Bessie- one of Plant Island’s transport Lamphries— Tawkerr and Parly’s favorite. Loyal, but has an attitude. Can be bribed with lettuce.
Cantilyra- the world that the Cantilyric Saga takes place in, currently in a state of repair due to an catastrophic incident that occurred 25 years before the events of Chorus.
Cold Island- a small island nation, aptly named for its chilly climate. While seemingly a hostile environment, Cold Island’s small but close-knit community is very warm and welcoming, watched over by Chief Deedge.
Feral- a term used for when certain inhuman species of Cantilyra, such as satyrs, tabaxi, aurochians and the like revert into a temporary state where they behave more animalistic and instinctively, sometimes to the extent of becoming completely confused and nonverbal. This can be caused by stressful situations, overexertion or person-specific triggers. The frequency, intensity and effects of ferality differ from person to person, some not experiencing it at all.
Lamphrie- a large species of aquatic reptilians characterized by their long necks and thick shells, commonly domesticated and used as water transportation.
Maggpi Hermeas- one of the mysterious aurochians who appeared in late 24-post. A no-nonsense woman with a versatile skillset, sharp of mind and tongue. She’s tough to crack, but is soft-hearted and caring deep down…though she’d knock you flat sooner than she’d show that.
Plant Island- A large island nation known for its temperate climate and fertile land, ruled by King Entbrat. Despite its size, it’s towns are scattered and large portions of it are uninhabited, making it the second most populous nation next to Earth Island.
Quad Council- (Not to be confused with: Quarrister Council) also referred to as the Council of Quads, informally as “The Bosses” or simply as The Council, the Quad Council is a group of prominent island leaders— referred to as Quads or Councilmen— who banded together around the start of post with the goal of unifying their nations and rendering the rule of Cantilyra more coordinated and peaceful. The primary members of the Council currently consist of King Entbrat, Chief Deedge, General Riff, Princess Shelby and representatives from the Quarrister Council (yes, a council within a council.), with several lesser-involved members from the fire islands.
Tawkerr O’Charo- one of the mysterious aurochians who appeared in late 24-post. A charming and princely yet rather roguish fellow with a knack for getting up to no good and little tolerance for being bossed around. Has some sort of chronic illness affecting his respiratory system and voice, but still manages to never stop talking.