—— ? ——

  Melodian’s Divine Realm

  The magical constructs were flickering blurs to any mortal eye. For the god Melodian, they were constant streams of information.

  He watched as scenes from thousands of mortals appeared for miniature moments, then vanished. Across the newly integrated realms, there were triumphs, losses, journeys, and performances.

  Melodian watched as his blessed mortals took on this new reality.

  Some of them had already faded. Through circumstance, bad choices or just horrible luck. That was always the problem with the universe. You never knew what it would throw at you next.

  So far though… The outcomes have been better than expected. He mused as he continued watching the construct.

  He enhanced his focus and accelerated the speed at which the constructs worked. Even for him, watching this many to this extent could be a struggle.

  But how else would he find inspirations for his next ballad? Each mortal had the potential to become a story of legend.

  He couldn’t miss it.

  He wouldn’t miss it.

  Because of this, the divine request to enter his realm utterly annoyed him.

  Melodian grimaced, his fingers pausing over a projected scene of a Frost-kin in the midst of lulling a band of monsters to sleep with nothing but her voice.

  The woman’s group was barely alive, only she was left standing in the dungeon they had foolishly entered. Their gear was ravaged, weapons destroyed. The Frost-kin had lost every instrument to her name and in desperation had channeled despair into a haunting melody.

  This was a climax that was rarely seen. Regardless of the outcome, the notes she sang were something that should be remembered.

  “Always at the most inconvenient times,” he muttered, swiping the thread of reality aside with a flick of his hand. The construct shimmered and switched to recording.

  “Hearing it live is always better…” he complained as he waved the summons open.

  “... Sylira?” he read out loud, brow furrowing. “What does she want? Isn’t it too early for her to be making moves. Shouldn’t she be absorbing every bit of information she can?”

  He sighed.

  She’s going to notice if I’m not paying full attention..

  That was the most frustrating thing about Sylira. Her perception of the living, including gods, was unprecedented. What she could glean from any interaction made her quite unpopular.

  But also useful.

  Melodian responded to her knock, allowing her avatar to appear in his realm.

  “Meloooooooooodian the Magnificent. How are you? It’s been far too long since we talked.”

  The whispering voice of the god permeated the realm.

  Melodian stared at her avatar.

  Sylira’s manifestation stepped forward, and the surrounding air shifted. The realm remembered things it had never known—tastes, aches, words in dead languages—all flickering at the edge of perception before vanishing.

  Her body was wrapped in flowing bandages of pale light and transparent silk. They shimmered with scripts that faded in and out of visibility. Her skin glowed with a faint warmth, it was an almost comforting light, but it was tinged with a deep wrongness.

  Tendrils of semi-transparent energy coiled and spiraled lazily around her. The jellyfish-like appendages drifted through the realm, but they were not idle. They explored, probing the air, the ground, the subtle vibrations of song woven into the fabric of Melodian’s realm.

  Curious.

  Hungry.

  Each tendril pulsed in heartbeat rhythms, slow and hypnotic, echoing outward and then returning. They whispered back secrets to their master, low tones that none had deciphered.

  Despite the many disastrous attempts.

  Her white and black swirling eyes stared at Melodian. Her genuine smile granted none of its usual graces. While many would defend Sylira’s honor and methods, none would ever say being in her presence was pleasant.

  It was her nature. When she was there, all living beings felt one thing.

  That they were being watched.

  For Melodian, it brought back memories of all of his worst critics. Those who sat not to listen, but to judge. The ones who never clapped. Who never blinked. Whose silence was louder than any boo.

  He resisted the urge to adjust his robes. A reflex, nothing more.

  She’d notice, and this was half the game with Sylira. The actions you took between your words. The things you let come to the surface.

  Unfortunately, that made Sylira a huge fan of Melodian.

  For who else could contend with the goddess who watched, but the god who performed?

  “You already know, don’t you?” he said, his voice smooth. His visage fell into a practiced form.

  “Ah boooooo…” she hissed. “Back to your trick? You know many would worry about offending me by doing that?”

  Melodian smirked at her as his performance began. One of a false face that revealed nothing… and yet everything he chose to show.

  “Oh Sylira,” He intoned with a graceful sweep of his arm. “If I had worried about offending my audience, I would never have risen to my station.”

  She tilted her head like a confused dog.

  “Whyyyyy, Melooodiiiannnn… it’s meannnn” She pouted. “If I had known how frustrating you could be I would have kept earlier records on you.”

  “Ah, but where would the mystery be, oh goddess of living records?”

  He gave a half-bow, one just short of actual respect. “If you had written me down too early, you’d have nothing left to watch unfold.”

  Sylira’s pout widened into a grin, though her tendrils subtly coiled tighter, reaching to uncover his secrets.

  “No Sylira, you know our deal,” he tutted, giving a disapproving shake of his head.

  “Fine.” The tendrils vanished, and the feeling of being watched left with them.

  She sat back and was caught by a comfortable chair.

  “I do like that you remember our deals,” she said, glimmering hands stroking the furniture as if it had always been hers. The chair responded, adjusting to her posture like it remembered how she sat. “Many of our peers like to forget things that are inconvenient to them. Or when it costs them something.”

  Melodian rolled his eyes and summoned his own seat with a snap, a lavish lounger that unfolded midair, draped in velvet green with white notes stitched across its surface. He lounged across it sideways, chin resting on one hand.

  “I remember everything worth remembering,” he said. “And you, Sylira, are very rarely forgettable.” His silken words slid towards her.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  He grinned with a shrug.

  “Alright, Sylira.” Melodian’s visage dropped. “That’s payback for appearing with all of your things out for the world to see.”

  “Fair enough…” she replied, then contentedly looked around his realm, staying silent.

  Silence.

  Melodian sighed.

  “Touche.” he muttered, “Why are you here Sylira? Isn’t a visit this early in an integration costly for you?”

  Sylira didn’t respond at first. She just continued looking around the realm, eyes half-lidded as if listening to something only she could hear.

  “It is costly,” she admitted. “But, for you Melodian, I make exceptions.”

  He gave her a long, skeptical look. “Now you’re just trying to make me nervous.”

  “No…” Sylira’s lips curled slightly. “I know better than to give you fuel for one of your frustrating performances.”

  Melodian placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Frustrating? Sylira, please. I would never perform in a way that is meant to enrage my audience.”

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  She gave a long, flat look.

  “Melodian,” she said, voice like parchment unrolling, “your existence enrages some audiences.”

  He grinned wider. “I can’t help that some have poor taste.”

  His grin fell.

  “While this is fun, I do know you shouldn’t stay long. I can’t have my best supply of new musical history missing anything.”

  Sylira perfectly mirrored his display of mock offense. It was uncanny.

  “Is that all I am to you? An ever-growing library?” Her grin fell, perfectly replaying his previous expression.

  “I do appreciate your care of my work.” She smiled. “Speaking of, a follower of mine told me something fascinating the other day.”

  Melodian leaned back, a hand lazily tapping out a complex rhythm. “If this is about one of mine, I won’t apologize if they hurt your follower’s ability to hear. Eavesdropping always has risks.”

  Sylira gave a small, amused hum. “Oh please, if they were that clumsy, they would deserve it.”

  She shook her head. “No, this is about someone my follower treated. A rather particular human. He turned up late and was barely alive.”

  She paused, watching him, letting the words sink in like ink into paper.

  “Imagine my surprise,” she continued, voice low and even, “reading a description of a skill that summoned instruments.”

  Melodian’s fingers stilled on the rhythm he’d been playing.

  He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

  “Why would that be surprising?” he said, voice smooth, casual, almost bored. “‘Summoning instruments’ describes so many skills. I met one mortal from a realm of fire that summoned instruments made of smoke. You should have seen his patron’s annoyance at my attempts to recruit him.”

  Sylira’s expression stayed fixed. Patient. Surgical.

  “But this wasn’t made of smoke,” she said quietly. “In fact, when treating him, my follower used my methods.” She tilted her head ever so slightly. “How is Theodia, by the way? I haven’t heard about her in quite some time.”

  The realm’s quiet rhythms halted with Melodian’s mind.

  He sighed. “He survived then.”

  A massive grin crawled across Sylira’s face.

  “I take it the proud Melodian the Magnificent would like to use my services?”

  Melodian eyed her, frustrated.

  “As if you don’t already know.” His face was stern now, stripped of charm.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  —— ? ——

  THWACK!

  The bunny hit the tree like a particularly aggressive snowball, leaving a puff of white in its wake.

  Simon ducked, letting the creature leaping from behind sail over his head.

  “You just don’t get ittttt!” he called out in a sing-song voice.

  Pop!

  He yanked the freshly summoned tambourine from the air like he was catching a frisbee. With a grunt of effort, he sent it spinning through the air. It wobbled and rattled before catching the recently landed bunny right in its face.

  Simon dashed forward, leaning down to scoop up the dented saxophone that had slipped from his grasp.

  "I AM SIMON STARFALL," he bellowed, raising the instrument over his head. "SLAYER OF HELL BUNNIES!"

  The bunny, dazed, turned just in time to see him charging.

  Simon gripped the sax with both hands. “Fear me!”

  He swung downward with all the grace of a drunkard.

  CLONGGG!

  The bunny crumpled.

  Simon stood over it, chest heaving, and scanned for more threats.

  There is always, always, another one in the snow. He reminded himself.

  A ding sounded in his mind

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > You have slain Aurora Hopper x 7

  > Experience has been earned.

  > Level Up!

  ——————————

  Simon let the saxophone rest against his shoulder, grinning like an idiot.

  “About time! It’s been all day…”

  His words trailed as he read the second notification.

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > LEVEL UP!

  > Level: 1 -> 2

  > You have gained:

  

  
• 10 Stat points.


  
• 1 Skill point.


  

  >Skill Point Allocated:

  >> Theodia’s Instrumental Summon has consumed available skill points

  Harmony is offered. Growth is earned. Limits are unknown.

  ——————————

  “Of course it did. Greedy little skill aren’t you?”

  He looked around, his rapid breaths misting in the chill air.

  Then he noticed the light had changed.

  “Oh, time to go..” he muttered.

  The shadows had lengthened. The sun was just about to dip behind a mountain.

  It had been hard to notice in the heat of the fight, but now his breath billowed in soft clouds.

  Simon took out the map and tried to figure out just how far from Varnholt he was.

  “Oh… crap.. I may have gotten carried away” He sprung into action and whipped out the corpse bag.

  With quick practiced motions, he stuffed the bodies of the hellish beasts in and started moving in the direction of Varnholt.

  “Crap. crap. Crap. crap.” He jogged through the snow, muttering.

  The sun dipped lower— bleeding orange into the sky, staining the snow with shadows that felt longer than they had any right to be.

  He glanced down at the map again, nearly tripping over a buried rock. “Okay, I might be a little farther out than I thought.”

  Another puff of breath rolled out in front of him, trailing steam like a locomotive.

  He broke into a steady jog, rapidly crunching snow beneath his boots.

  “It’s totally fine!” He said aloud, more to fate than himself. “I have been out here after dark… it went… well..”

  His mind flashed back.

  Simon started sprinting.

  Everything is going to be okay, Simon. Just run, figure out your points, and run.

  He focused on the important parts of his status as he fled the valley.

  —- STATUS —-

  > Name: Simon Starfall

  > Level: 2

  > Class: Unassigned - Reach level 10 to make your choice.

  > Free Points: 10

  > Stats

  Body

  

  
• Endurance: 16


  
• Vitality: 17


  
• Dexterity: 12


  
• Strength: 20


  

  Mind

  

  
• Wisdom: 8


  
• Intelligence: 7


  

  Soul

  

  
• Willpower: 20


  
• Charisma: 7


  

  Essence:

  

  
• Luck: 5


  

  > Skills

  >> Theodia’s Instrumental Summon (Inferior) - Growth-Class - Ravenous

  Level: 0 / ?

  Points: 2 / ?

  Description:

  Theodia was a bard with exceptional improvisational mastery. Gifted with an innate ability to adapt to any melody, instrument, or performance, she refused to be constrained by the tools available to her. Dissatisfied with the limitations of the instruments she carried, Theodia created an improvised summoning technique, allowing her to manifest instruments on demand.

  This early version of hers was an imperfect skill. Though limited, it laid the foundation for her eventual ascension as one of the most celebrated bards who followed Melodian the Magnificent.

  Use: Summons a random instrument for the user. This instrument will persist for five minutes.

  Cooldown: 59 seconds.

  Note: This skill is a Growth skill; it can grow in rarity. Theodia’s desire for the skill remains, causing it to be Ravenous. Ravenous skills will consume all skill points available until they reach their potential.

  >> Unshakeable Resilience (Unique)

  Level: 0 / ?

  >> Weaponized Repetition (Unique)

  Level: 0 / ?

  > Current Equipment

  Adaptive Survival Attire of the Newly Integrated Being - (Uncommon)

  ——————————

  “Two skill points gave me one god damned second!” he said in outrage.

  A cold gust of wind answered, hitting him square in his face. Simon shivered in reflex, but it hadn’t chilled him much.

  He had dismissed the prompt to focus as he dashed across the snow-covered plains.

  Snow swirled in his wake as his breath pounded out as he kept up his frantic pace.

  Oh... kay... Even his thoughts felt labored as he moved.

  Think you idiot… Best use of the stats… come on…

  He winced as his foot caught something beneath the snow and nearly sent him sprawling.

  Simon caught himself, barely, and growled through his teeth.

  His boots slammed step after step as he picked up speed again.

  Maybe… more…

  His thoughts were interrupted by a sound.

  A low, droning howl

  It cut through the air like a thread of ice, rising from somewhere in the valley behind him.

  Unlike anything Simon had heard in his life. Not a wolf.

  Not a creature shaped by evolution or from earth.

  This was something deeper.

  Simon didn’t stop running—but his spine straightened on instinct, his heartbeat quickened, and his breath caught in his throat.

  He chanced a glance over his shoulder.

  Nothing.

  Just trees and lengthening shadows and wind.

  The howl came again, from behind him… closer?

  “...That’s new,” Simon muttered, voice barely audible over the sound of his retreat.

  He pulled the map partially out of his pocket and quickly glanced.

  Oh, it's still far.

  He shoved the map back in deep.

  Shadows crawled across the snow like spilling ink.

  A third howl sounded, deeper and wet. It brushed against his ears, a resonating sound that itched at something primal in him.

  Yup.

  Closer.

  Simon glanced back across the plains.

  Far in the distance, movement in the shadows.

  Shadows…

  Simon looked up at the clear darkening sky.

  Devoid of the insidious aurora.

  No color.

  No pulse.

  Just stars slowly blinking into the canvas of the sky.

  His breath went ragged as he kicked into a gear he didn’t know he had.

  The cold bit deeper, but he didn’t feel it.

  Every stride burned. Every breath scraped his throat raw. But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

  The stars above multiplied, uncaring. Watching. Silent.

  He dared to glance behind him again.

  A massive, loping figure surged across the snow in the distance, gaining ground.

  Its movement was all wrong.

  Too fast, too fluid.

  Like some type of nightmare-contrived gorilla.

  Thick forelimbs slammed into the ground in long, lunging strides, its torso swinging low with unnatural momentum.

  Simon felt dread.

  He could not let this thing catch him.

  He stopped thinking.

  Stopped processing.

  And ran like he had never run before.

  —— ? ——

  — AUTHOR NOTICE —

  It really helps me gain visibility!

  Thanks for reading.

  ~TheBusyBard

  Harmony is offered. Growth is earned. Limits are unknown.

  https://www.patreon.com/TheBusyBard

  Advance chapters will be there starting July 4th

  Also I have a discord now! Link is here

  ——————————