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[Celtic Minstrel]

So, I'm now writing a story about Stefan, and how he managed to arrive in Tandy and, later, the Boards (CRFH). I don't plan any particular schedule – I'll post chapters mostly as they become available, and update this first post with a table of contents.

Since it's obviously partly set here in Tandy, I'll need people's permission to use their characters, so if you'd like to appear in the story feel free to say so. I won't promise to use everyone who volunteers, but I'll use some of you. (If no-one volunteers I'll probably just ask specific people for permission.)


First chapter tomorrow, because I'm tired now and want to go to bed. (I have six chapters currently completed.)

Table of Contents

1. The First Day
2. Concert Night
3. Eye of the Dark
4. Tears in Reality
5. On Instruments and Holidays
6. Harper in the Bulk

Edited by Celtic Minstrel, 10 December 2008 - 08:09 PM.

[Abel the 16th]

If you must know I'm a little huskier in person, also I worship the Order of Chaos (the eight pronged star within a circle, the represents that order comes from chaos and not the other way around). And although I never leave my room, I have eyes and ears everywhere trying to decipher the pattern that brings everything together in the circle of circumstance. For I am the eggman, you are the eggman, I am the walrus, coo coo ka choo, coo coo ka choo.
Seriously though, I'd like to be in your story that \if I don't pose a cog in the preverbial scheme of things.

[Sir Tasnica]

Sure, why not? I'm sure you have an adequate description of my character already from the Choose Your Own Adventure thread.

[Daracaex]

You may use me if you want, but I demand 5% of all profits.

[Celtic Minstrel]

Profits? What profits?

Anyway, here's the first chapter. And by the way, Roon is already slated for an appearance in Chapter 7.

Notes: The university he's going to is a real university, but in real life I don't believe it has a music program.

------------------------

Chapter 1: The First Day

Stefan looked up at the tall buildings of Dublin City University. The simple yet elegant buildings would be his place of study for the next year or two.

A recent graduate of the music program at the University of Calgary, Stefan had chosen to obtain his Master's degree in the land of his ancestors rather than the more famous University of Magic in Atlantis. DCU was one of the top universities for music magic, after all, and it carried a novelty that Atlantis lacked.

Digging a sheet of paper out of his backpack, he examined it for a minute, then walked up to the large double doors, pulled them open, and entered. Being a postgrad student, he had very few classes, but one of those few classes happened to be in ten minutes.

***

The professor turned out to be quite a friendly-looking guy with streaks of grey in his hair.

"Welcome, one and all!" he said as Stefan and several other students entered the room. "I am pleased that all of you have chosen to take the best course of all!" He grins and winks. "Now, sit down, sit down, and we shall discuss the contents of this case." He gestured at a suitcase sitting very prominently on the floor just in front of his desk.

"Since they are the easiest to make — though that's not saying much — we will be discussing wooden instruments first, and in fact most of the year will be devoted to this. Now, there are many different woods used, and each one has its own properties. Some are better for wind instruments, others are better for stringed instruments, and still others are better for percussive instruments such as the marimba. First of all, rosewood..."

He opened the suitcase to reveal several samples, and picked one out.

The class continued on in this vein, and all the students listened intently. Several asked questions, too.

***

Around noon, Stefan arrived back at the apartment he shared with his sister, who had opted to do her undergraduate at the same university. Of course, she was not back yet, since undergrads tend to have more classes. She would likely not be back 'til suppertime, which meant that Stefan had plenty of time to map out ideas for his summative musical work, to be presented in the spring. The only requirement was that it must include an orchestra of some kind, whether it be a string orchestra, a full-blown symphony orchestra, or even a wind band. However, it was far too soon to be thinking about the orchestration — now was the time to brainstorm.

And brainstorm he did. In the space of four hours, he generated six sheets of staff paper covered on both sides with musical ideas. He was still working on this when the door opened and a voice called, "Hello!".

"Hi Aoife," he calls back. "How was your first day of classes?

His sister came into the room. "It was great! My theory teacher is really fun, and history was fascinating because we talked about Ancient Greek music."

Stefan grins. "Ah, Greek music. I remember spending perhaps ten minutes of my first history class on that before moving on to Medieval music. I'm surprised you spent a whole class on it."

"It may have something to do with the discovery of a new Greek manuscript last year," she suggested.

"Where'd they find that?" he asked curiously.

"In Greece, of course," she retorted back.

"Just 'cause it's a Greek manuscript doesn't mean it was found in Greece," he informed her.

"Whatever. Actually, he didn't mention where it was found... anyway, I have homework. What do you want for supper?"

Stefan considered that for a few moments, then replied, "Well, it's our first day actually living here, so I vote something simple. Such as pasta with tomato sauce."

"I dunno... I'm not sure I want pasta..." she mused.

Stefan shrugged. "Well, unless you can suggest something better, I'll go with the pasta."

"Okay, fine."

She sat there for a moment longer before heading out to the living room (which also contained her bed and desk in one screened-off corner) to do her homework.

Stefan followed her out to prepare dinner.

[roonstown]

Nice, simple first chapter.

[Archanon]

Indeed.

Also, Arch/Archa is available for use, should you be so inclined.

[Celtic Minstrel]

Chapter 2: Concert Night

"No, you do it like this," said Stefan, fingering a B7 chord on his guitar. "Second finger on the fifth string, third finger on the third string, fourth finger on the first string, all at the second fret. And the first finger on the D sharp here."

The 10-year-old boy he was teaching mimicked Stefan's fingering on his half-size guitar. "This better?"

"Not quite," said Stefan, adjusting the boy's fingers for him. "Like this. Now, play it."

The boy strummed the chord, the open E string sounding rather dissonant against the notes of the chord.

"Good. But you don't need the sixth string. Start with the fifth string."

He tried again, this time without the open E.

"Good. Now go back and forth between that and the E chord a few times."

As the boy attempted to play the V-I progression, stopping between chords to reposition his fingers, Stefan looked at his watch. It read twenty to four — ten minutes overtime.

"Okay, that's enough for today," he said after a minute or two. "Practice Twinkle Star for next week as well as the new piece I gave you today and this E to B7 chord progression we've been going over."

Leaving the boy to pack up, he went into the living room to talk to his mother. He found her chatting merrily with his sister, who must have just arrived a few minutes ago since she still had not taken her coat off.

When the woman sees him, however, she stands, and they briefly discuss what her son is supposed to practise this coming week and that, while the boy's doing well, he'd do much better if he practised more.

Soon the two of them were gone, leaving the siblings alone.

"I ordered pizza," Aoife informed him. "There's only an hour and a half before the concert."

"You know I can make a soup in less than half an hour," he grumbled. "It's cheaper, too."

"I know, but I checked the cupboards. We're all out of lentils."

Stefan sighed. "Oh. I didn't realize. I guess I'll have to pick some up tomorrow..."

There is a pause before Aoife piped up again. "Canyouhelpmewithmytheoryhomework?" she asked, speaking very quickly.

Stefan grinned. "I thought you preferred to not ask for help. But sure, I'll take a look at it. What are you doing now in theory, anyway?"

"Um... lots of things."

"Have you learned about the predominant function?"

"Not yet. I'm a little confused about the voice-leading rules, though."

***

The pizza arrived twenty minutes later, heralded by a knock on the door. As usual, Aoife had ordered onions on it, a minor source of annoyance for Stefan, who disliked them. However, that didn't prevent the pizza from being devoured in a very short time. With supper finished, they went into their respective sleeping areas to prepare for the concert.

As is usual for concerts, Aoife was dressed in all black. She even had a black hairband to hold back her long red hair. Once she had finished changing and packing up her flute and her music, she went into the other room to fetch her brother (who had already changed and was doing something on his MacBook).

The university was only one street away, so they had decided to walk there. Before long, they arrived at the university concert hall, where the split up — Aoife darting around to the backstage door while Stefan headed in the front entrance and flashed his student card for free admission.

***

The concert over, Stefan chatted to some friends in the lobby while waiting for his sister to come out.

The walk home should have been no different that the walk there, but somehow, it was. Perhaps it was simply the fact that night had fallen. Perhaps it was the footsteps that stopped whenever they tried stopping to hear them better. Or perhaps it was just a general, supernatural feeling of unease that they, as magic-users, were especially attuned to...

[Gem-Ini]

Nice so far.

If you want to use Iris, best PM me. I don't keep a profile because I just keep rewriting it (I always come to hate it after a few minutes) and Iris carries a lot of junk with her (ancient daemonic sword that transcends time and space, another magical sword or two, enchanted tarot cards, and a living doll being the most obvious).

[Tyris]

*blink* Whoa, you're fast. Or... no, wait, you had six chapters all lined up and ready to go. Um... just ignore everything we said, then.

[Celtic Minstrel]

If you really want to know how fast I am, here's the days I posted each chapter on the CRFH board:

• Chapter 1: Wed Oct 15, 2008
• Chapter 2: Fri Oct 17, 2008
• Chapter 3: Sat Oct 18, 2008
• Chapter 4: Fri Oct 31, 2008
• Chapter 5: Fri Nov 21, 2008
• Chapter 6: Sun Nov 23, 2008

So, I guess I am somewhat fast, but there's no real consistency there. The tortoise will probably overtake me.

[Celtic Minstrel]

Unsurprisingly, no-one cares when they were originally posted. So here's the next one.

Chapter 3: Eye of the Dark

Whatever the ominous feeling was, it did not seem to present any immediate danger. The siblings arrive safely back at their apartment, though they can't shake the feeling of being watched.

"It's almost like the Eye of Sauron is gazing at us," Stefan mused as they climbed the stairs to the apartment.

"Sauron doesn't exist, though," his sister flatly replied, prompting an eyeroll from her brother.

"That's irrelevant," was the only reply he could think of.

Once they got home, they worked on schoolwork for awhile, but found it hard to focus with the weight of the ominous feeling pressing down on them. And so, they went to bed rather earlier than they normally would've.

***

The feeling of wrongness did not go away over the next month or two, and indeed it got slowly stronger, but they grew used to it. It quickly became clear that the non-mages of the university were not experiencing it.

As the semester flew by and Christmas grew ever closer, they could only endure the uncomfortable feeling. By the time Aoife's exams began, her marks were beginning to suffer a little from the stress, a state that was only aggravated by the ominous feeling.

Then on Christmas Eve, the thing finally struck.

On the morning of December the 24th, the sky was completely cloudless, there was not a smidgeon of snow on the ground, there was very little wind, and in fact the weather was altogether much nicer than one would expect for the time of year.

At precisely 11:42 AM, this changed dramatically. Storm clouds appeared literally out of nowhere, gale-force winds struck up, and within seconds the entire city was filled with blowing snow, reducing visibility to zero. Many cars were stranded on the roads, and pedestrians were forced to dart into the nearest building or risk becoming hopelessly lost.

Stefan and Aoife were fortunate enough to be at home when the storm hit, and in fact they were so engrossed in what they were doing (playing computer games) that they didn't actually notice it until around 1:00, when they stopped to have lunch.

Aoife was the first to notice. "Come look!" she cried from the living room. "There's a real blizzard out there!"

Stefan came to look. The blowing snow outside seemed to form menacing shapes, like a group of dragons attacking the city. It almost seemed to be whispering to him — he couldn't quite make out the words, but he was certain they were horrible in some way.

***

And there was a hostile intelligence behind that storm — an embodiment of all that is evil seeking to destroy a city. Attacks from the Dark like this were not unheard of — the most recent one to gain media coverage was probably the 2004 earthquake in the Indian ocean. The earthquake itself was relatively tame, but the tsunamis that followed had been nearly twenty times larger than all predictions, killing almost half a billion people with waves in some places reaching a whopping 80 metres in height. Following the tsunami, leading mages in Atlantis found record levels of Dark residues in the areas hit by the tsunami.

Compared to that, this storm was relatively tame — yet it was far from harmless. At about quarter to two, windows throughout the city shattered from the storm, allowing the high winds and freezing snow to enter all the buildings. And the winds were strong enough that the flying glass was driven well into the buildings, injuring and in some cases even killing people who were next to the windows. The power of the Dark may have been kept out by the ancient threshold magics, but the weather was an entity of its own which the Dark was simply using towards its ends.

Priests, pastors, and ministers around the city were able to keep the weather at bay with the ancient ritual of exorcism, but most of the other buildings were not so lucky. Stefan and Aoife were in the kitchen when the window burst, cleaning up from lunch, and they were barely able to move against the strong winds blowing into the apartment. Fortunately, none of the glass reached them.

Exorcism helped, sure, but that ritual was better suited to releasing spirits who for various reasons have become stuck on Terra after the death of their body. Mages tended to learn the more reliable methods, such as the power of the Light. While Stefan and Aoife had never learnt to tap that well of power directly, they had both been taught songs which could summon it. Like the Dark, it was an intelligent power, and once summoned could act on its own.

Doubtless they were not the only people in the city to launch into song. The presence of a university which catered particularly to people who needed to channel their magic through music meant that the number of music mages in the city was many times higher than the world average. And Dublin was also a city that held a higher population of mundane mages than many other cities, mages who could tap the Light directly.

Knowing that no ordinary storm could break glass, the siblings launched right into the song. Even though the storm drowned out the music, they knew that that wasn't important. The music was all that mattered.

And at first it seemed to have no effect, but after what seemed to an eternity the song finally came to an end. Suddenly the kitchen was filled with bright light, and the wind became warm and gentle. The entity did not speak, but simply proceeded out of the kitchen toward the shattered window, leaving the kitchen in a relatively normal state... at least, normal for an outdoor courtyard. It's not often that one's kitchen floor is filled with snowdrifts.

Ignoring the snow, which was already beginning to melt, they moved out into the living room to watch. The entity of light had grown into the form of a towering giant, and it appeared to be fighting with a hulking black void with thousands of tentacles. And yet, despite being smaller than its opponent, it was winning. It could not have been any other way — the Dark could never stand against the Light.

The rest of the day was spent fixing windows, helping to clean up the street, doing other maintenance resulting from the storm's damage, and above all listening to other people's stories of their storm experience. More than one mentioned someone singing or chanting the exorcism.

The total death count was later reported to be well under one hundred. Considering the malevolent force behind the storm, that's actually much lower than is usual.

***

The following morning, they woke up to find a present on the foot of their bed. The label read, "From Father Christmas". Gifts from the spirit of Christmas were rare indeed, since he generally favoured those who have no money and never covered the entire planet every year. The norm for European and North American households was once every eight years... and they had received one only three years before.

Stefan unwrapped a pair of eyeglasses with a note reading, "These glasses are enchanted to absorb musical spells. As such, they may be used to temporarily enhance your vision while wearing them."

Aoife received a pen.. Her note read, "Can write in any colour, as well as invisible ink which is readable only under strong moonlight. It changes based on your thoughts and mood, but can be locked into a colour to avoid writing in rainbow ink."

And before long, life was back to normal and the second semester of the year was looming up.

[Celtic Minstrel]

...Well, I was hoping someone would comment so that I didn't have to triple-post, but no-one did! Oh well, here's Chapter 4.

One thing to note: I used the term "quetzal" in this chapter. Just in case some of you actually know what a real quetzal is, I have to say that in this case, you're wrong. What I mean is, it's not a bird in this story, but rather a member of the genus Quetzalcoatlus. Or, in other words, a pterosaur.

Chapter 4: Tears in Reality

Christmas was gone before they knew it was there, and the new year brought with it an unusual spell of fair weather. It was cold, yes, but at least it was sunny.

Some people hypothesized that it was the weather spirit's way of making up for the recent storm. Others pointed out that the weather spirit lacked the compassion to do such a thing. Most, however, simply were grateful for it.

The city-wide paper eventually reported the results of the Atlantean mages' analysis of the storm. One prominent mage was cited as calling it "the most severe Dark incident since the 2004 tsunami". Stefan read this, though it really only confirmed what he already knew, but most people simply let the incident trickle out of their minds.

And the new year also brought the onset of a new term. A new term meant new courses for Aoife, though not for Stefan. But Stefan had other things to worry about. He basically had twelve weeks to complete his first major work, to be performed at an end-of-term concert. And major it was, for he had mapped out no less than seven movements in piano score, and now faced the task of orchestrating it for a full symphony orchestra.

So the weeks whiled away, filled with work interspersed with the occasional concert. They talked with friends too, of course, but even that tended to be about school-related topics. such as whether or not a particular chord in their theory assignment included a suspension.

***

Around the beginning of March, an unusual sight graced the city. From the southwest, a formation of quetzals flew in — five huge winged lizards in a V shape. One even bore a robed rider.

Stefan didn't notice them until he heard a boy shout, "Look, Mom! Look at the dragons!" Naturally, he looked up expecting to see dragons. A group of dragons would really be a surprising sight, since they tended to be solitary. As his eyes fell upon the quetzals, he heard the boy's mother chiding him: "Those aren't dragons, dear, they're wyverns." She was not far off. Although wyverns were smaller than quetzals (unable to bear a human on their back), possessed an acidic spit, and had a much lower level of intelligence, their overall shape was very similar.

He watched them wheel about and land on the roof of a tall building near the university. The mage dismounted and pulled a device out of her robes. Apparently it was some sort of detector, for she moved around with it for a few moments before stop. Then she made some motions as if sewing up an invisible tear, before remounting on the quetzal and heading off again.

She must have done this in several places throughout the city, for the next day's paper included a small article on her activities. Someone had even managed to get a brief interview with her, and had taken a photograph. The photo showed her holding the detector in her left hand while the right hand clasped a sewing needle. She looked surprised, as if she hadn't been expecting it. The only thing she had said before leaving, according to the report, was: "There's a hyperdimensional storm in this area of spacetime, and it's tearing holes in reality, so I'm just one of the mages assigned to patch them up. Don't worry – it's nothing truly serious."

***

This incident gave Stefan rather a lot to think about over the next few weeks, especially since there were periodic sightings of other people who seemed to be on the same assignment. Not all of them rode a quetzal, of course — one flew a mini-helicopter, another flew on a small dragon, a fourth simply flew under his or her own power, and a fifth was a shape-shifter, coming in as a wandering albatross and leaving as a golden eagle. But all of them had one thing in common: they would pull out their detector, move it around a bit, then do something which presumably was intended to patch a hole.

Although he was a little worried, school forced him to put it off. He wrestled with his composition, moving passages to another instrument, expanding some passages and culling others until he finally had something that he was more or less satisfied with. He submitted it to the orchestra conductor a mere two hours before the deadline, then finally sat back to relax. He knew the last few weeks held no more deadlines or other projects in them — the only other thing he had to worry about was his single end-of-year exam.

Several days after the submission of the score, he overheard his sister telling a friend how much she liked her part in his piece. Somehow, this dispelled a few of the doubts he had had about it.

***

On the morning of the final orchestra concert, he looked up and saw a city in the sky. He blinked twice — it was early morning and he had just woken up — but when he looked again, the city was still there. This time he also noticed the figures swarming around the edges. There were perhaps twelve mages, all on quetzals, spaced evenly around what he now realized was a hole in the sky. As he watched, he saw that they were slowly closing the hole. When he looked again, about an hour later, it was gone.

By the time his sister came home for lunch, he had almost forgotten it. Either because she was exceptionally hungry or because she was feeling especially generous, or perhaps both, she took it upon herself to make lunch for both of them. This was unusual — usually they would work together and each make their own.

They chatted a little about various things, but before long, she was off for her afternoon class (music theory), and Stefan was once again alone in the apartment. He took the free time to play a computer game, causing the time to fly by.

Before he knew it, Aoife was back and practising. Sighing, he closed down the game and headed out to prepare dinner. His sister had already changed into concert black, and put her hair in a ponytail.

After supper, they headed out for the concert. Once again, they split up at the door. Once again, Stefan flashed his student card. As he took the program from the usher (whom he recognized and said Hi to), he headed into the hall and took a look at the program. The third item on the program was "That Endless Night, by Stefan Weber O'Halloran". Below it each movement was listed by name. Seeing his name on the program sent a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he couldn't help but rub his hands together for a moment. In other words, just like any other time a piece he wrote had been performed.

One other familiar name was on the program — the other student in the graduate program who had chosen to write his first major work for orchestra rather than choir, solo, or chamber group. The works for choir would be sung in the choir concert the following night, and all the other works would be performed on the new music concerts next week.

So excited was he to hear his piece actually performed that he barely heard the first two works, which were some obscure works by a contemporary of Mozart. But when it finally came to his work, and the music washed over him, it washed away all his doubts about the details of the piece. For now, anyway.

[roonstown]

Hm.

Hhhhm.

HHHHHHHhhhhm.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_okay I'm done.

I can't really say much until I've read more though...

[Farlance]

I'm somewhat sorry, but I'll have to hand you criticism here. You move into your action quickly and make it drop quickly. In fact, compared to the pace with which you take the rest of the story, despite the relative length of it, it was very little indeed. This would be okay, but you also have an awkward view of this action.

You focus more upon the magic and what it means than the action. You have exposition and character sight right in the quick action scene of your story thus far. Quick action scene's can be well done, and I actually recommend the famous Terry Pratchett for this skill. Terry Pratchett doesn't really make action books and yet, though so little of his story is action, when he writes, every move is simple and effective. Vimes throws his axe, a rocking horse goes before his vision, a dwarf is set on fire. What you have done is explained the facets and workings of these actions but summed the total of them as quickly as Pratchett, and it just doesn't flow or work as well for me.

You also have short chapters, yet a long story going it seems. The segmenting into chapters is a finicky Business, but right now, I'd almost swear I'm only up to chapter two, or maybe at a stretch three, though you have given us many installments. Roon actually manages to show a good example here, as he works upon Copperstorm, he doesn't make new chapters with each update, but where he changes to a new chapter each time is quite fitting. I'm of the opinion that Copperstorm is Roon's best work actually, but it won't give you much idea on how to work with your story. All of this is not really an issue with writing though, it's just that the story is broken up more than it needs to be. This is kind of excused by the way you give out the installments, but it is something I thought you could note.

You focus on the mechanics and goings about of the lives of your characters quite a bit so far, and I do want to see where you go with this. You have me intrigued with it, as it isn't something often done to a large degree, and not often done well. It is a differently compelling style, you could pull it off nicely and I'd rather enjoy that. So far you have done well by me there.

Really, altogether, it is not a bad start to the story. I only offer advice to try smooth out what I perceive to be... 'kinks'. I am not surefire in my advice but I believe it is sound. I could say a bit more if you find any of this helpful, but I think it will work out well and it is always best to let people pick up on what they really want from their story to flesh out their style. I look forward to more.

[Celtic Minstrel]

Thanks, Farlance – I'll take that into account as much as possible in future chapters. I think I kind of understand what you mean, anyway.

As for the length of the chapters – I dunno, maybe they're shorter than necessary. Each chapter is basically around one particular major event, or something like that. I'm writing one chapter at a time, and the boundaries are essentially where I stop writing. And where I stop writing depends on what is happening, and what will happen next, and stuff.

Anyway, next chapter coming up! Remember, this one was already written before hearing your criticism, and I'm not going to change it at this time based on your criticism. I may update it later, but not now.

Chapter 5: On Instruments and Holidays

As the final week of term wound down, Stefan added the finishing touches on the other project that was required for his master's degree. Though most people in the program went for two years, it was quite possible to take all the required courses in a single year if you were willing to do a lot of work. Stefan had opted to do this. For his second project he had chosen to build a musical instrument, a surprisingly common choice amongst students in the music and magic program at any university that offered it.

The instrument he had built was a medium-sized harp. At least, he called it a harp – the professor had pointed out that it was technically more like a zither due to the strings being attached to the sound box at both ends, rather than extending away from the sound box. Anyway, it had a total of 50 strings tuned diatonically, and set of levers at one end which allowed him to alter the tuning of a string by a semitone while in the middle of a piece. Unlike a full concert harp, there were only five of these, yet the way it was rigged still allowed him to play any chromatic note.

But there was more to it than just the physical appearance. He had spent a lot of time singing enchantments onto it. Most of these enchantments were to protect against breaking or to automate repair, meaning that the harp was, for almost all practical purposes, indestructible. There were also other enchantments, such as an enchantment to keep it in tune.

On the penultimate day of classes, Stefan carefully tuned the harp, wrapped it up, and took it into the professor's office to submit it for examination and marking. A glance at the sky revealed a narrow tear stretching on for what seemed like miles, with hundreds of mages teeming around it. At this moment, however, he was not really concerned about that.

He sat down on one of the chairs that someone had left in the hall outside the professor's office and observed the instruments of the other two students who were waiting their turn. One person had built a large, circular, three-level panflute. It was larger than any panflute Stefan could ever recall seeing. The other person had made what looked like a seven-stringed, fretless banjo. Both were playing music, and the two songs both clashed and blended together in a strange way.

The door opened, and the previous student came out. She had made a five-stringed violin, complete with a bow. She smiled and said, "You ready?" to the guy with the panflute.

He nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be." Heaving himself up from the floor, he headed into the office, while she sat down on the floor to wait for him.

Before long, he was out again and the person with the banjo was going in. And then... it was his turn.

"Ah, Stefan, right?" the professor greeted him. "So you're taking the one year option, eh?"

Stefan nodded. "That's right."

"Well, you were building a zither if I remember correctly. May I see it?"

Stefan chose not to tell him that it was a harp not a zither, though he thought about it. He unwrapped the instrument and presented it to the professor.

"Hmm... lots of strings here... forty-something?"

"Fifty," supplied Stefan.

"Ah, so seven octaves, right?"

"Correct."

"And... wow, you've really been ambitious with these levers, haven't you? But there's only five here. Which four notes are unavailable?"

Stefan grinned. "B sharp, C flat, E sharp, and F flat. In other words, none at all."

The professor examined the levers. "Ah, yes, I see what you've done. Clever, that." Then he plucks a couple of strings. "Good soundbox, plenty of resonance," he remarked. Then he hands it back to Stefan. "Why don't you play a little?"

Stefan had been half-expecting this. "Sure," he said, taking the harp back and holding it so that one end nestled in the crook of his left elbow while the other end, with the levers, rested in his left hand. He hesitated for a moment, recalling how he had played the song a few times before. And then he started. It wasn't perfect, but it was a pretty decent rendition of Schubert's Erlkönig.

When he was finished, the professor had a few more comments for him.

"Hmm... yes, interesting choice. Not a perfect fit for the instrument, but it works well enough." The professor stood and offered his hand. "Well, I think that's an A or an A+. Well done."

Stefan stood also and shakes his hand. "Thanks," he said. Then he wrapped up the harp again and went back out, heading toward the apartment.

Upon arrival, he found Aoife showing a couple of friends the apartment. "Potential roommates?" he enquired.

"Yup," she replied with a grin.

"Shouldn't you be studying or something?"

"Maaaaybe. I'll start studying hard after my last class, on Monday."

"When are your exams again?"

"Friday, Saturday, and the following Tuesday."

"Ick. Two in a row is never nice."

"No..." At this point they were interrupted by one of the other girls pointing something out about the room, and Stefan headed off into his own bedroom.

***

The newspapers were no longer claiming that there was nothing to fear about the hyperdimensional storm. Now, it was reporting accounts of people who had vanished into one of the holes. Sure, it was just a few isolated cases, but that's unfortunately how newspapers often are, focusing on the negative events. Quotes from mages sounded less certain now. Instead of saying "There's nothing to worry about", they were saying things like "I don't think there's anything to worry about". Some people may not notice the difference, but many certainly did.

Stefan and Aoife's flight back to Canada was scheduled for the Friday after her last exam. Most of the previous day was spent packing up all their belongings. The flight was mostly uneventful, except for the one point when the plane was abruptly stopped in midair to prevent it flying straight into a hole which hadn't been there seconds earlier. Fortunately the airports had started sending a mage along with every flight in order to handle these sorts of situations.

This obviously delayed them a fair bit, but eventually they were touching down in Vancouver to transfer onto a smaller (and noisier) plane to Kelowna, where they intended to take a taxi home.

After they received their luggage, however, they caught sight of someone waving madly at them. Aoife dropped her luggage on the cart and raced ahead to hug her. Greetings of "Hi Pearl!" and "Hi Aoife" and such things were exchanged as Stefan, a little annoyed at being left with the luggage, caught up at a slower pace.

"Hello, Pearl," he said once he was close enough. "I didn't know you were picking us up."

"No, well, I thought I'd surprise you. I don't have any patients scheduled for today, and there's someone watching who can phone me if an emergency patient shows up. Patrick's still at work, of course. Did I tell you he's working for Tellus now?"

"Yes, you did," replied Aoife, retrieving some luggage from the cart. "Just last week, actually."

Pearl also took one of the bags off to reduce the cart's load. "No, that was telling you he got an interview. It's not quite the same."

"Whatever," her daughter replied.

"So, do either of you have any plans for the summer?" asked Pearl, changing the subject.

"I thought I might drive around and see some of the States," replied Stefan. "I mean, I've never really seen much besides California, so it should be interesting. Of course, there's also that small issue about student loans and a job, so it might have to wait a while."

"Actually, I think that's a good idea. As long as you keep it fairly short, of course."

***

And so, some weeks later found Stefan on a road somewhere in Idaho... unable to prevent himself from driving into the rift that had just appeared in front of him.

[roonstown]

... I'm REALLY not doing my job. At least ten of those were class fives...

[Celtic Minstrel]

*shrugs* For whatever reason, this is a universe without any Enchanter. Possibly because it is not a world which receives much traffic from other worlds, or perhaps because it has not experienced anything like this before.

And most of the rifts are closing on their own, at least from the perspective of their inhabitants, due to their inherent 5D nature.

And I may as well post chapter 6 as well. Chapter 7 is perhaps a quarter finished. I have to decide exactly where I'm going to go with it, though.

Chapter 6: Harper in the Bulk

Stefan slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The car rocketed straight into the rift. Unlike some of the earlier rifts, which had looked as if they led to random other worlds, this one led nowhere. Stefan abruptly found himself enveloped in silence and blackness. He also felt an odd stillness from being pushed outside the time stream. The only sources of light were that produced by the car itself and the light leaking through the rift.

He didn't know how long he drifted there, and indeed it didn't really matter, for time meant nothing in this place. But eventually he felt a presence. It was a magical presence, more powerful than any he had ever felt. It seemed to probe him curiously.

Then something changed. Suddenly the infinite blackness was replaced by something else. Ahead of him, he saw in the distance what appeared to be a massive purplish orange blob, pulsating in an apparently random fashion. Looking behind him, he saw the place he had come from — a translucent blue sheet rippling gently.

Looking forward again, he saw a dark cloaked figure hovering in front of the car. It raised what looked like arms, and a balcony suddenly appeared around him, supporting the car. Sound seemed to return to the world outside the car, and he opened the door and stepped out.

"Who are you?" Stefan asked the mysterious figure.

"I am myself," replied the figure cryptically in an impossibly deep voice.

"But what's your name? What are you called?"

"I have no single name," the figure informed him. "Some call me the Deep Magic. Others have called me Kairos. Another name that has been used is Guardian of the Bulk. A few call me Ginnungagap. And there are many, many others in other languages, languages that one such as you would never have heard of."

Stefan considered this for a moment. "So, the Deep Magic is a person?" he asked.

"I am not a person," the figure said. "The form you see is merely designed to provide a somewhat familiar mode of interaction for yourself. I am a Power. I am the magic that exists out beyond the borders of any brane. I am the one that governs the interaction between branes and synthetic worlds, worlds which exist in defiance of any physical law. I may be sentient, but I am not a person."

"And where on earth am I?" inquired Stefan.

"Nowhere. You are not on any of the planets know as Terra orbiting a star called Sol in a galaxy known as the Milky Way which is part of a cluster called the Virgil Supercl–"

"Okay, I get it," Stefan interrupts. "Thank you, I already know where I am not. What I'd like to know is where I am."

"This is the Bulk. Over there —" it points at the blue sheet behind him "— is a brane with three spatial dimensions and two temporal dimensions, most likely the one you originated on. Over there —" it points at the pulsating orange blob "— is a brane with six spatial dimensions and four temporal dimensions. What you see around you is a projection of the eleven-dimensional space of the Bulk into a three-dimensional image that your optical centre is able to comprehend, created by converted the gravitational radiation of this place into electromagnetic radiation that your eyes are able to detect."

"Um. Wow. That's a lot more than I needed to know," said Stefan. "Can you do anything about the hyperdimensional storm which sent me here?"

"What you refer to as a hyperdimensional storm is in fact a single rift in the space-time continuum of the brane. A smaller rift would probably have only spanned a single timeline and stretched for a space of a few minutes over the other temporal dimension and a matter of metres in the spatial dimensions. The rift you speak of, however, was a whopping three hundred and fifteen thousand, three hundred and sixty years by fourteen hours by twelve metres by forty-two metres by ten centimetres, on average. Of course, its shape was far from regular. In any case, I recently repaired it."

"That's wonderful! Now can you send me back to where I came from?"

"It is unlikely," replied the figure. "I do not know where you came from, and I doubt you can give me enough information to uniquely identify your point of origin. Most inhabitants of the brane do not have sufficient information for that. What I can do, however, is send you to a nearby point. From there you would eventually be able to find your way back. If you give me enough information, I could probably get you close enough that you would be able to find your point of origin within eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours, assuming you travelled at least once every seven hundred and twenty hours."

Stefan sighed. "Okay, if that's the best you can do, then it will have to do. How much information do you need?"

"Simply start telling me anything that you know, particularly about the history of your world. I may ask specific questions from time to time."

So Stefan took a breath, dredged up as much history as he could remember, and began.

***

"...and I think that's all I know, pretty much," Stefan finished.

"Very well. Return to the vehicle now, and I will return you to the brane."

Stefan climbed back into his car, closed the door, and started the engine. The balcony vanished, as did the cloaked figure. Then the car lurched and sped toward the blue sheet at an incredible speed. As it came closer, filling his vision, he saw what looked like a doorway growing slowly larger. Then the brane seemed to vanish, and all that was left was the doorway looming ahead of him.

Soon he could see the landscape beyond the doorway, a road circling around a wooded area toward a medium-sized town. A signpost was visible, though he couldn't read it yet. There were a few cars on the road, but they were frozen, as if he was seeing a snapshot of a single moment in time.

The instant he passed through the doorway, all the cars suddenly went into motion. Moreover, his speed changed abruptly, becoming much more reasonable for a car on a road (only 120 km/h!). However, since he honestly had no clue whether there might be a car behind him, and didn't really have time to check, he immediately pulled over to the shoulder and stopped.

Looking up, he read the large signpost in front of him. It said "Welcome to Tandy".

[Tyris]

Looking up, he read the large signpost in front of him. It said "Welcome to Tandy".

Dun dun DUN! Da da dun da da dun!


Sorry, that happens.

[Uncle Ben]

Good story so far.

I like all the loose threads you are leaving out there.

-keeps eyes peeled for the next part-