Hope's Whispers

Hope was a strange thing. In the face of unending hardship, it would find ways to bury itself deep in the caverns and secret tunnels of one’s spirit. Though it might feel gone for times, it would always stay alive, hidden in those secret realms. Then, when the time came and the spirit called upon it, hope would rise and return to the surface, filling the hearts of its holders with a warmth and optimism long forgotten.

For Sayane, such a sensation was already beginning to return, and she wondered if she could harness that hope and spread it to the rest of those whom she encountered. With her comrades beside her and the potential of an entire symphony’s worth of sacred instruments, she had to believe that it was a possibility.

Hope, along with music, was about to return to the realm.

For now, her hope had to contend with dread and anxiety. It had been a full day since Azag, Esca, Echo, Erosc, and a host of revolutionaries had flown away in attack vessels beneath the veil of light. As much as she did not want to part with any of them, all had agreed Sayane was too consequential to go on such a dangerous mission. There would be plenty of danger ahead, but for now, it was best if they went without her.

So she stayed behind, in the floating fortress, with Attis, with whom she was now executing the beginnings of her vision. Before departing, Echo had collaborated with the Revolution’s scouts to discern the locations of the remaining three Great Harmony Shards. Many knew of them and knew their importance, but it was worth confirming. Two dozen scouts were sent out to verify that the locations were accurate. Beyond confirming locations, the scouts were tasked with connecting with local races who could potentially be allies.

That was where Sayane’s plan began. For once, her first life’s career provided tactical support. While discussing the way to best engage with the host races, Sayane had proposed a brilliant idea.

A tour.

A tour for her wherein she would build hype and anticipation among the disparate and desperate, so that as many potential listeners could join them at the sites of the other shards. If she performed with the sacred instruments and had hundreds or thousands joining her in spirit and song, she was sure they could break the Dissonance’s cursed entanglement.

Thus, for now, she was waiting for her friends to return safely, while praying their quest was fruitful, while also waiting to see if the scouts could even confirm the locations of the other shards, and if the species that resided near them could be friends or allies to the cause.

It was quite a bite to wait for. After so much rushing terror and change in such a short period of time, Sayane was finding it hard to unwind and sit in peace.

Thankfully, Attis was ever faithful and willing to be a present companion and encyclopedia of lore for the realm. Having a few uninterrupted hours with him to simply sit and chat had afforded a wealth of perspective to Sayane. Being in The Revolution’s base of operations made it all the more interesting.

That morning, as Sayane and Attis were walking to the watering stations, she saw a large propaganda poster of a pale, unassuming being with a fur beard and a loose neck. It shocked her to learn that this simple figure was the primarch of The Silence.

“Primarch Stol. Judge Magistrate of the Empire Judiciary and Inquisitor Supreme…” Attis sighed as he looked up at the tattered poster, which had seemingly been used for target practice and was now adorned with a massive red ‘x’ over his face.

“So… the leader? The emperor?” Sayane asked.

“In some ways. If nothing else, the figurehead. The empire is ruled by the judges. There are fourteen of them across the realm. Stol is simply the most commanding. Brutal, unremorseful, a supremacist against all undersociety races, and a former bureaucrat who made his wealth infinite by financing the war machine that keeps the empire safe.”

“You knew him?” Sayane asked, judging by Attis’s tone.

“Only slightly,” Attis laughed to himself.

“We attended the same educational facility. He was always quiet. Now I realize it was because he despised those of us he deemed lesser. Erosc holds a special loathing in his heart for Stol, but I fear it’s too narrow-sighted. Killing Stol would not stop The Silence. He is but one. The Silence’s great terror is that there are many who share his beliefs.”

Thinking on what the future conflict with The Silence looked like was certainly intimidating. Sayane had never concerned herself with the complexities of geopolitical conflicts, economic systems, class divides, or full-scale societal change. In her fixation on idolhood, she had only ever cared about music. Now, as she stood there at the forefront of a global rebellion, she wondered if that lack of previous experience was a strength or a weakness.

If nothing else, it meant she had no previous concepts to hold her back. All she could do was judge The Silence on its own merit and if the time came, help move forward towards a better world. Learning from Azag had told her she was not interested in simply going back to how things were.

“Do you think too many in The Revolution were focused on returning to the old days instead of trying to build something new? It seems as though the old days had plenty of problems and segregations of their own,” Sayane asked.

Attis nodded in agreement.

“I think even I was like that for too long. We had a life that was a certain way, then we lost it. And for so long, we just wanted to go back to that. It blinded us to new opportunity. That is one of the many incredible aspects of you, dear child. You felt sorrow for the life you lost when you died, but you so quickly accepted this new reality and found your place in creating a new future. I have been quite moved by your path,” Attis said.

It was touching and interesting to hear her emotional journey of grief summarized so succinctly and turned into a positive perspective. In the day-to-day reality that had come with her new existence, Sayane had not really grown with intention. It was reactive. Organic. Raw. Truly she had certainly spent a great deal of time mourning and wishing she had not died, but Attis had a good point. It had been quite some time since she had wished to be back in her first life.

She may have occasionally wished for a different new reality, or for the pain and suffering to end, but she didn’t wish to be back in the old world. Sitting with that revelation brought tears to Sayane’s eyes once more, as her daily cry arrived to help her process once more.

Attis noticed and did not speak. He merely hopped into her arms and took her hand in his small paw.

When they reached the watering stations, Sayane saw Can-Mo ahead and waved to him. He was on her list to speak with, and she braced for the onslaught of joyful tears that would likely soon be coming from him.

“Can-Mo! Good morning!” Sayane said as she rushed to embrace him.

“Good morning, dear friends! Are you settling in well?” Can-Mo asked.

“Oh, you know, crafting secret plans to overthrow the ruling government,” Sayane laughed.

“Just a regular morning, then!” Can-Mo said with a smile and a toast.

“Can-Mo, I fear I must confess something to you…” Sayane teased.

“What?” Can-Mo played along.

“I… I had to leave your outfits behind…” Sayane admitted.

Can-Mo laughed a deep belly laugh.

“I am quite offended, songstress! Quite! Well, this is an enormous district. I’m sure you can find a lovely tailor here to outfit you in wondrous new clothes,” Can-Mo replied.

Only he did not seem to be joking this time. Sayane realized he was sincerely assuming she would use someone else.

“Can-Mo, really?” Sayane laughed.

“What?” he replied.

“YOU are my tailor. No one else will do!” Sayane said.

She could already sense the burst of tears coming, but Can-Mo did his best to keep his composure. Rattling metal from his trembling canteen betrayed his stoic front, but he carried on.

“Really? And… what c-could I help my dear Saya- songstress w-w-with?” Can-Mo stuttered through the fracturing dam that was his face.

“I am going to need four new outfits. Well, I need a few regular outfits too because I’ve been in these for twelve days now and I’m going insane… But, aside from that… I am going to need four glorious new outfits for performances. I have some ideas I can bring by once I’ve worked out a few details. But I’ve seen what you could do with an hour. I’d love to see what you do with a week…”

By now, the canteen was visibly shaking, and clean water shook over the lid and onto the ground. Can-Mo’s act broke, and he let out a familiar wail of excitement as his tentacles lifted her in the air with joy.

“The songstress blesses lowly Can-Mo!!! She is too kind!!!” he sobbed as he lowered Sayane back onto the ground and wiped his eyes.

“So, a week?” Sayane asked.

His voice steadied, and he looked up with ecstatic eyes.

“Give me a week, and I will make you immortal. I will give you a visage so wondrous, the sight of you shall be burned into the memories of all who behold you. And as for regular clothes, I will bring something for you this afternoon, dear.”

Sayane clapped and shimmied with anticipation before hugging her friend once more.

Footsteps echoed across the metal flooring behind them, and Sayane turned to see one of the Councilors approaching.

“Songstress, Attis, they succeeded. All of them. The instruments will be here by the evenfall, and the scouts will be here with collaborators by noon-time!” the Councilor whispered.

“What wonder!!!” Attis cheered as he slapped his leg in joy.

“What wonder!!!” Sayane echoed.

Once more, the burning lightness of hope rushed through every inch of Sayane’s being, and she paused to feel its wonder as it coated her being. After so much trial and change and doubt, she was ready to face the future with hope leading the way. Next, it was time to sync with whatever instruments they had retrieved and plan her tour with whomever the messengers from the local races were. Noon and evening could not come soon enough.