"Sound, by purity, exists in the sense of hearing, to close one's eyes and listen to the aura of beauty as it paints a vivid image with no brush. To those with no sight, it becomes a mean of visualizing the world as fear, love, happiness, and sadness manifest when a bow crosses a string. But call upon those with no hearing, where the world falls to silence, and the beautiful, iridescent pictures become a monochrome grey. But what if those who love sound, through memory and expression alone may shape their world with sound, building from scratch, in pure silence, to achieve beauty that even those with hearing, could never fathom? The fear of never hearing the shiver of musical strings falls, leaving nothing but an empty canvas, upon which, creation blossoms." ~Skrybe.
Build
Absence. Excluding the air that steadily filled her lungs, this was what lay before Octavia. Her violet eyes scanned the landscape before her. The ground she was used to walking on, once coated in bold browns, and accented with vibrant, emerald greens, was now coated in an even, solid white. She slowly turned her attention to the sky above her, hoping to see the celeste blue, that indicated the beauty of the day, or even the dark hues of night, splattered with the ambient white speckles that shimmered above the world. To her disappointment, neither of these met her eyes, which were instead greeted with a stormy grey, that seemed to choke the sun from the world she once recognized.
She took a deep breath in through her nose, pausing for a moment. She held her breath for a few seconds, listening attentively to the silence that surrounded her. She let out her breath in a quick huff, a look of confusion crossing her face. Her breathing sounded different than before, almost distant, as though it weren't her breathing. She took a step forward, expecting to hear the familiar clop of her hooves against the terrain beneath her, but to her surprise, she only felt the impact of her hoof on the ground below her, silence following. She shook her head lightly, her normally well-groomed, charcoal mane, falling out of place, covering the right side of her face.
Octavia took another deep breath, hearing the same distant inhale as before. She opened her mouth slowly, her once confident poise breaking as she began to speak. Her words, like her breathing, seemed distant, as though they didn't belong to her. Her eyes went wide, as she frantically looked around, hoping this distortion of sound was part of the world around her. She shakily raised her forelegs to the side of her head, hitting her hooves together. She felt the impact of her hooves, she knew the sound that was supposed to be made, but no sound came. She slowly lowered her hooves, looking out into the distance, as her eyes began to water.
Octavia had been walking for hours, or so she assumed. Regardless of what direction she advanced in, the landscape remained the same, the sky unchanged. The light grey fur around her cheeks had darkened slightly, matted against her skin where her tears had fallen. She came to a rest, slouching down, as she swallowed hard, a look of disgust crossing her face as she felt the slight pressure push against her ears, before fading away to silence. "How did this happen?" She sighed heavily, laying down on her side. Her eyes ran over the cool, white surface beneath her.
"Why am I in such an awful place such as this? The floor is as cold as ice, and leads nowhere. The sky teases me constantly, only making my mood fall to this -- world, this horrible place. For what reason would I be damned here? I'm simply a cellist, I-"
Her eyes came to a rest on an object, just a short distance from her. She sat up slowly, tilting her head, admiring the shape carefully. It was all too familiar, unmistakable. She trotted towards it slowly, assured it was another trick of the atmosphere around her, but no. Before her lay her beloved instrument, a beautifully crafted cello she had spent countless hours mastering, to gain her first chair spot in the royal orchestra. She smiled lightly, it was comforting to see her instrument, her eyes shifted just beyond it, landing on her bow. She couldn't understand how these two pieces had ended up here, nor did she care. She gently caressed her instrument, smiling wider, as her hoof slid across the glossy wood.
"I can't wait to pla-"
Her smile fell, as her attention went back to the silence that surrounded her. She felt fresh tears leak from her eyes, running down her still damp cheeks, as she began to sob, covering her face with her hooves.
"It's not fair! Why did it have to come to this?!"
Her tears felt hot against her skin, as she began to slip out of her sense of sorrow, to one of anger. She looked towards the bleak skies, and brought her hoof down on the ground hard. By this point, her mane had fallen completely to her shoulders, a distraught look crossing her face, as she picked up her instrument and bow, glaring back up at the sky. She took in a deep breath, shouting at the top of her lungs, which to hear, still sounded off, distant. "Take away my hearing! You will never take away, my ability to play!" With that, she positioned herself upright, standing on her hind legs, cradling the large instrument against her torso, one hoof on the strings, one gripping her bow tightly enough, she was surprised it hadn't snapped in two.
She began to play, dragging her bow across her cello, her eyes falling closed, as they had so many times before. She swayed her head gently, as she played the piece in her head, the only sound that she could still hear. She took in a deep breath, as she drew the bow slowly, letting the deep, robust note hum gently. The piece almost came to life before her, as she felt the vibration of the string against her push the air gently from her lungs. It was a piece she had played when she was little, when her parents had first bought her the cello. She quickened her movements, shifting her hoof along the strings, drawing out an array of vibrations, which played flawlessly with the sounds that played in her mind.
She had almost finished the piece, when she felt something brushing against her hind legs. clutching the bow still, her right foreleg fell to her side, her violet eyes slowly opened, first meeting the strands of her black mane, before catching a sea of swaying emerald. She flicked her mane to one side, clearing her field of vision, before looking at the ground beneath her. It had changed. The ambient white that had once lay before her, had vanished. In its place, an endless meadow had grown, identical blades of grass swaying gently in an almost nonexistent breeze.
Octavia looked around, stunned at the sight before her. She lifted one of her hind legs slowly, admiring the blades that had pushed themselves out of the ground to greet her hooves. She squinted slightly, making out the reddish-brown soil that lay underneath.
"How? How did this all grow? Where did it come from? It couldn't have been-- my music..."
Octavia raised her foreleg once again, the ivory strings of the bow resting against the shimmering silver strings. Her eyes shifted upwards, glancing at the sky, which still remained a dull grey. She began to play again, drawing the bow slowly across each individual string, this time, however, no piece came to mind. She simply began playing, wonder overtaking her, replacing the lingering silence in her ears with the most beautiful chords, combinations and notes she had never played together before. A small smile crossed her face, as she pulled her attention away from the still unchanging sky, glancing towards the grass, which was still being teased by the wind. She was no longer playing for comfort, each note, every chord was pulled from her very being. As the bow met the strings once again, she turned her head slightly, her eyes catching a small change in the environment around her. A trail of grass had disappeared, leaving in its place, a crystal blue lake, which seemed to ripple in unison with the swaying grass.
Octavia's smile widened slightly, as she allowed her eyes to fall shut, pulling her into her music further. As the speed of her playing changed, the way her breathing shook to the dramatic chords, the changing world around her entered her mind as if allowing her to create with her music alone. A quick progression brought mountains in the distance, allowing her to see more than the meadows before her. A slow drawing of the bow created forests around her, towering redwood trees circling the cellist, as her hooves worked in unison, sensually changing each note and tune, to mold the world to her liking. As her playing slowed, her amethyst eyes were met with the beauty of the world before her, and with a final glance up at the sky, she allowed her bow to drop to the ground below, cushioned by the velvet grass, which had finally come to a rest. The once empty sky had disappeared, and in its place, a light sapphire spread endlessly, complimented only by the rising sun, which cast hues of shimmering red and gold from the distant mountains.
"My music-- really created all of this?"
Octavia felt her tears begin to water again, though this time, she quickly wiped them away, a joyous feeling sweeping over her, as she looked over her shoulder to see what lay behind her. To her surprise, behind her lay the bleak, unchanging landscape she had come from, divided by a single, tall boulder that lay between the two landscapes. She walked over to the boulder, struggling slightly to keep her cello and bow with her as she progressed. The world around her was still silent, the only sound that she could hear, was the lingering melody she had pulled from the depths of her creativity. She took a moment to position her cello against the jutting rock, making sure it wouldn't fall, propping the bow to the right of it, as she sat, her eyes running over the instrument that had brought her nothing but beauty. She put a hoof to her chest, running over her fur gently. She looked down as she felt her hoof pass over the silky, pink bow-tie that contrasted against her dark fur. She reached behind her neck, unfastening the bow, allowing it to rest in her hoof.
Octavia trotted over to the side of the boulder that faced the blank world she had previously come from, and smiled gently as she placed the bow-tie at the bottom, the vivid pink standing out against the marble white, as she bowed her head slowly, lightly kissing the only article of clothing she wore. After a few moments, she walked back towards the meadow, admiring her cello and bow one final time, before walking away, towards the mountains, away from the void she had dwelled in since she awoke. Even in the silence, as the sun began to warm her fur, she could have sworn she heard the melody of the first song she had ever played, brushing just past her ears as she walked onward.
"Hm," Octavia asked quietly, shifting her body slightly, as she felt the silky sheets beneath her mold around her form. She sat up slowly, the plush blanket that had rested upon her chest slid down to her midsection. "But I was," she trailed off, her voice, like the chime of a bell, rang in her ears, the silence from before, as if a mere shiver, had disappeared. She looked around the dark room, her eyes running over familiar shapes of awards, furniture, and other trinkets. In the corner of her room, her cello shone in the light of the moon, which had seeped in through the cracks of the half-shut blinds. She glanced over at her nightstand, her pink bow resting neatly in the same place she had set it prior to her sleep. Octavia kicked the blanket off of her body, trotting almost silently over to the corner where her cello rested, giving its body a gentle kiss.
"What would I do without you," she asked softly.
