Story and Song - A Catacombs Tryout

[Goddess Sword]

///It had been a few days since the incident. Fanael, for his part, hadn’t the slightest idea why he was still here - Even his wound wasn’t as bad as it had been the last time. And surely they could tell he was a Hanerian, even the simpleminded Catalenans must have been able to realize that; surely they should have noticed and either killed him themselves or tossed him to the monsters to die.
///And yet here he was, huddling between market stalls in the evenings after the shopkeepers had left for the night like a vagrant, slinking around in the shadowy outskirts of the settlement by day, alive as ever, here as he had been since his arrival.
///He rather hated it, to be frank. Being here, surrounded by them... He wasn’t supposed to be here, they weren’t supposed to just let him live. It was infuriating.
///But then, what other choice did he have? Return to the Hanerians, who had only a few days prior labeled him a traitor and tried to kill him? Yes, because that would go over just so well. Then if not that, what? Try to survive alone out in the tunnels, among the beasts ten times his size that would see him as easy pickings? Pass. And he’d never be able to get past them to the surface alone, either. He’d been lucky out in the tunnels before, but after that scene, there was no way that twerp or anyone else would be showing up to give him another shot if he ended up half-dead out there again. So, much as he loathed it, this was the only chance he stood at survival. He’d have to take what he could get.
///“Wow, you’re in line early, aren’tcha, pal?” A voice remarked, drawing Fanael from his thoughts and setting him once more on edge - Or at least, moreso than he already was. “Heard about the extra Freezesprite Dust ‘terra found yesterday, eh?” The voice’s owner, he soon realized, was a Catalenan, beige with brown markings and green eyes that were almost, but not quite, the same hue as his lightly-worn jacket, leaning over the counter of the stall to Fanael’s right. Despite his baby face, the scars he bore gave the impression that he must have been around Fanael’s age, perhaps older - Or if not, that he must have seen a battle or two in his time. “Must be one serious mage to be waiting out here at this time of morning. I might even give you a discount for your dedication!” He laughed.
///Fanael huffed. “No thanks,” he replied harshly, rising to his feet and trying unsuccessfully to keep his hackles flat. “I’m a mage, yeah, but I’ve got nothing to offer you. So, pass.”
///“Oh, no? Then what’re ya doing by my shop, if you don’t mind me asking?”
///His shop, Fanael thought. Right, of course. A merchant, that’s all. “I do mind, actually. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ He turned to leave, but found himself quickly cut off by the Catalenan.
///“You seem to be in an awful rush, stranger. Hope it’s not for the reason I think it might be,” the merchant said.
///Fanael gave a slight snarl. “If it’s thievery you’re implying, I can assure you I have more honor than anyone in this damned place.” Do you, though? a voice in his head questioned.
///Bah. He didn’t have time to be dwelling on his recent choices.
///The merchant chuckled. “Quite the feisty one, aren’t you? Not the friendliest, though,” he remarked, glancing him over. “That’s quite the injury you’ve sustained, there.” He gestured to the scabbed-over gash on Fanael’s side. “Care to share how that happened?”
///“...Got into a fight I wasn’t prepared for,” he growled. Not a lie, exactly, but not the whole truth by any means. Hopefully enough to get this guy off his back, though.
///Ah, if only that had been the case. “Hah, I’ve been there!” he exclaimed, a grin on his face. “Nearly lost my ear to a Firesprite back in the day.” He pawed at his torn right was for emphasis. “Decided maybe my talents were better spent elsewhere after that. Like perhaps your talents are better spent finding things of your own, rather than stealing them from others.”
///“I told you already, you dense fool, I didn’t take a damn thing!” Fanael snapped.
///“Sure you didn’t, sure you didn’t,” the merchant remarked, smirking. “Tell you what. If you’re willing to help out at the stall today, I’ll take your word for it and let you go, instead of calling the guards on ya and letting them be the ones to decide if you’re being honest or not.”
///Oh, joy. There it was. Whatever guards they had, if they were called, that would surely be it for him. He could never win, could he? “Fine,” he hissed.
///The merchant laughed. “Figured that’d be what you said. And hey, if you don’t scare off my customers with that sour attitude of yours, I’ll even have my friend look over that wound of yours and see if there’s anything we can do to help it heal up cleaner.“
///“Great,” he said, tone heavy with sarcasm. “Can’t wait for that.”
///“I’m sure you can’t,” the merchant answered, and Fanael couldn’t tell with certainty whether he was being sincere or mocking. “Name’s Rugan, and you?”
///“None of your business, raggedy-ear.”
///“I see. Well then, Nunya, I suggest you join me behind the counter and help get the store set up for the day.”
///“This is hell. I’m in hell,” Fanael muttered, and followed Rugan into the stall.
///It was a bit after noon when, sick and tired of being called “Nunya” and “Glow-eyes” and “Tie boy”, Fanael gave Rugan his actual name, to which the merchant had simply said, “There, now, was that so hard?”
///“Would it have been so hard for you not to be an obnoxious prick?” he snapped back under his breath. Was this what that kid who’d helped him felt like that whole time? Gods, as if the look on his face as he blasted his attempted killer off of him hadn’t made him feel bad enough about the whole mess.
///Still, as much as he hated being there, it was soon evening, and Rugan smiled down at where he was laying, frustrated and tired, on the floor of the stall. “Hey,” he said, “you made it.”
///Fanael gave him a contemptuous look. “About time,” he grumbled, rising to his feet. “Hearing you ramble on and on about nothing all day to anyone who steps within ten feet of you has been the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, and considering I damn near died recently, that’s really saying something.”
///Rugan laughed. “Clearly not cut out for the trading life, are you?”
///Fanael drew back towards the wall of the stall, fighting off the urge to strike, as the merchant patted him on the shoulder. Instead, he simply settled for growling, “Can I go now?”
///“I thought we agreed to have that injury of yours examined after work,” Rugan answered, a gleam in his eye.
///“I didn’t agree to any-“
///“And besides, you haven’t eaten anything all day, have you? All my wares are accounted for, after all.” He gestured around the shop. “Dinner’s on me, if you’re interested.”
///Of course your stuff’s all here, I told you from the moment we met, I’m not a damn thief, Fanael thought bitterly. Still, the Catalenan made a good point. The rations he’d taken for the initial attack on Catalena had long since run out, and though they’d managed well enough for the moment, neither he nor that kid were the best at scraping together anything to eat out in the tunnels. He could use a proper meal, and if this guy was willing to offer it...
///Well, he supposed that being led into an ambush or poisoned would at least be a quicker end to his suffering than slowly starving to death. “Fine,” he said. “But if you pull anything I swear I’ll blast you into pieces so fine they could be used as seasoning.”
///So it was that he found himself on a rooftop with curious strangers. Rugan’s friend, as it turned out, was a blind cat with starry eyes (in a rather literal sense) and a fellow mage, though less adept than he was, who, after pawing over the gash on his side for the most uncomfortable minute or two of Fanael’s life, mixed up a simple salve and smeared it heavily on his wound.
///“I can’t guarantee it’ll do a lot,” the cat, who was called Suterra, said, “but it should do a little bit for you, at least. Won’t make things any worse, if nothing else.”
///“It better not,” he grumbled. The last thing he needed was for this thing to get infected or something because some cat and his friend insisted on quote-unquote helping him.
///Suterra just laughed. “It won’t, believe me. I might not be a proper apothecary, but even I can mix up something like this without trouble.” They turned to Rugan. “We really should try to find one, though. Would be a literal lifesaver on the road. I don’t suppose you’ve met anyone of the sort?”
///“None who aren’t already involved in other guilds,” he replied.
///“Ah, figures,” they sighed. “What about you, Fanael? Don’t suppose you or anyone you know are particularly good with medicine?”
///“If I knew someone who could treat this thing properly, do you think I’d be here, being treated by someone I’ve never met and who doesn’t know what they’re doing?” he shot back.
///“...Harsh,” they said, “but fair enough. I suppose with an injury as expansive and fresh as that, you must be a battler?”
///“A mage,” he answered. “Why do you care?”
///They shrugged. “Well, we could always use the extra firepower. Road to the surface isn’t the easiest, after all.”
///The surface...? Where his people had been banished from. They were going to...
///“And besides,” they added, “Rugan mentioned something about you holing up between shops in the market square like a... how did you put it, Rugan?”
///“Like one of those homeless cats who begs for money on the street then spends what they get on golden leaflets and cattails,” he replied, smirking.
///Had they known the gesture, Suterra would have rolled their eyes. “I really don’t think people do that as much as you claim,” they said.
///“Oh, sure they do, you see it all the- well, no, I suppose you don’t see it, but I see it all the time.”
///“If you say so,” Suterra said. “Anyway, Rugan said it looked like you were having some trouble making ends meet, like you lost your job and got kicked out of your house or something.”
///They weren’t that far off from the truth, putting it that way.
///“So I was thinking, you’ve obviously seen a battle or two in your time, with an injury like that. And you know how the tunnels can be for cats trying to get anywhere. If you’d be interested, I’d be happy to give you a place to stay and food on the table if you’d be willing to join our guild and lend a paw with those beasts, should it come to that.”
///“...You mentioned something about going to the surface,” he posited.
///“Yes, of course. I’ve lived down here in Catalena my whole life, but I’ve dreamed for ages of seeing the night sky with my own eyes. And I’m not getting any younger, so the sooner I can reach the surface, the more likely I’ll still be able to see them, even just a little bit.” They gazed wistfully... at a rocky cave wall. With a display like that, Fanael doubted they’d be able to see anything up there.
///And yet...
///He pondered his options. Returning to the Hanerians was a death sentence. So was trying to carve out a life between the beasts in the tunnels. And even having been here without much incident for a few days now, Catalena set him on edge, and it was a pretty sprawling city, but gods forbid he saw that kid again. But the surface... the one place he and his people had been banished from, where neither the Hanerians nor the monsters could reach him...
///“Yeah, alright,” he said. “You give me a place to stay and food to eat, I’ll help you get up above."

[hypnowave]

///Once he registered the pain, it became overwhelming. An excruciating headache made him cry out and collapse on the cold, hard earth, and suddenly all the chaos around him meant nothing compared to what he was feeling. The clashing of weapons, the crackle of magic, the war cries from the throats of the hardy Catalenans and the ragged, vengeful Hanerians, the Caligos, they became no more than distant echoes in his ears. There was no music, only pain, and it pulsed like thunder in his head, agonizing, searing, he could do nothing more than close his eyes and hug himself. Where was Fanael? Where did he go? Tears of confusion, loss and sorrow welled up in the little ocarinist's eyes, and so he huddled, terrified and alone, clutching his memento as the battle ensued all around him.
///A firm grip on his scruff jolted him from the pain, and he gritted his teeth, flinching, afraid of being attacked. Scrambling to his feet, his eyes met with a vacant pair, and it took him a moment to realize he was staring at a mask, plain and featureless aside from a few cracks on its right side. "Are you all right?" asked the stranger, his rounded ears perked with concern. In his grip was a large, curved sword, its split ends covered in fresh blood. A deep red cloth with golden trim hung from his shoulders, tassels swaying side to side. His fur, scruffed up and bristling, faded from white to orange, decorated with black stripes. A Catalenan. "I... I think I'm fine," replied the ocarinist, jaw still clenched tight. 
///The stranger nodded his head towards him. "Your horn..."
///Nodding, the nameless nomad sucked in a sharp breath. "I know." He glanced around, watching as the rest of the Hanerians were driven back into the caverns. An ice-cold feeling of foreboding crept into his heart as he began to piece together the things he knew. 
///One. Fanael had left him. The cat he'd grown to admire and trust, the cat who had taught him magic, the cat who let him play his music and indulge in the songs of his forest days... Fanael. He had bolted from the scene, throwing himself into the maelstrom of teeth, claws, weapons and magic, the faint red glow of his eyes glittering faintly in the caverns. Now, the ocarinist realized, his own eyes were leaking tears again. Fanael had sounded so giddy, so ecstatic to see his people again... so happy to leave him behind. Perhaps things were different; Fanael had always been searching for home. He wasn't like the ocarinist, who had moved on from his old life. Why couldn't Fanael have put his Hanerian life behind him? Would that have been selfish? The tears didn't stop.
///Two. The Hanerians had turned on him. Desperate to get an answer, the nameless adventurer hadn't even said a word by the time he realized Fanael had disappeared. In the sea of black pelts and red eyes, it had been impossible to spot him, until he saw the large, imposing leader pin him down, brandishing that dagger and plunging it into Fanael's healing wound. Amidst the battle cries and the sound of clashing blades, somehow, his agonized yowl had cut through the air, and to the ocarinist it was the only sound that mattered. 
///Three. The ocarinist had attacked. A single note pierced the caverns - shrill and pained, a wail of loss and sorrow materialized itself into a force that knocked the Hanerian leader off his feet. It echoed off every wall of the caverns, and though he wasn't sure, he felt like he heard another chorus of war cries from the surging battlers: "For Catalena!" as newfound strength surged through them, advancing against the Hanerians. 
///Four. Chaos. His attack had drawn attention to him, and he realized far too late that he had become a target. Before he could react, he found himself at the receiving end of an ice attack, only ducking in time to save his skull but not his horns. The blast hadn't knocked him out, but the pain was enough to bring him to the ground. 
///Five. He didn't even get to say goodbye. Somehow, that was even more painful.
///Beside him, the masked stranger sat down. He was tall, his broad shoulders full of nicks and scars. He heaved a rugged sigh, obviously spent from the raid, and glanced at him. "Why do you cry?" His voice had a world of differences from Fanael's; concern dripped from each word like honey, and there was an oddity in his intonation. "You have saved a cat from the Caligos. You have saved us a great amount of time and effort. You have God's blessing."
///The ocarinist did not reply. Instead, he sobbed harder. He had saved Fanael's life a second time, and yet now he was gone, just like that. He tried to get some words out, something, anything to this stranger, but he couldn't put together anything coherent. "I just, he, I t-thought we'd be... I... he taught me this, this, this magic, but now he's gone, and I..."
///Saying nothing, the other cat dipped his head in sympathy. As all the cats around them got their bearings, he simply sat there, listening as the lost mage wept and wept. His heaving breaths, his constant sobbing, it felt like it stretched on forever. Fanael, Fanael, Fanael... that name was the only thing going through his head as his little body was racked by sob after sob. This was the first time he'd ever felt so injured, so betrayed, and still the stump of his left horn ached, a dull, constant throbbing that refused to fade. Little by little, the Catalenans receded, and yet the masked fighter simply sat there attentively, swishing his tail with an almost otherworldly grace and patience. Eventually, he spoke. 
///"You are not from Catalena. You are injured, Zulfiqar can help you. Will you come with us?"
///The mage opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by another voice, that of a she-cat rushing towards them with a dagger fashioned from bone attached to her belt. "'Iskandar! I didn't see you at the guild, you had me worried sick, you faceless bastard—" 
///"Tsaniyya," replied the masked tom, "Wa'alaikum salam. Is Zulfiqar at the guild?"
///"Library, last I heard," replied Tsaniyya. "And who's the stranger with the clown getup?"
///Iskandar backed up a little in indignation at her words, but tolerated her tart language. "He saved us, but he lost a friend who ran away from the Caligos. He is injured. I think he needs to come with us." 
///"I was asking for a name, idiot," retorted Tsaniyya, though the mage realized she was half joking. He faltered a bit as both cats glanced at him, obviously waiting for his answer.
///"I... I don't have one." He thought about Fanael saying as much. "My... my friend called me Twerp a lot, though, and..."
///"Hang on, hang on, hang on. Twerp? He called you Twerp?" Tsaniyya poked his side sharply, making him wince; not that he wasn't on the brink of crying again anyway. "And you say he's a friend of yours? Kid, that's just straight up wrong," she declared, then turned to Iskandar. "So he's nameless and hurt and has nowhere to go. You say he saved your sorry asses back there? He'll come with us and Zulfi will patch him up just fine."
///Despite the mask, Iskandar displayed an air of bemusement. "Very well. It is decided."

---

///Iskandar's hospitality reminded the ocarinist of the beavers. It felt like countless decades had passed since he bade them farewell and left the little lodge in search of a new life. Now, with his horn wrapped in bandages, he followed the enigmatic leader Iskandar down an intricate maze of tunnels. It didn't take long for him to realize that Iskandar was not one for conversations, preferring to remain in a respectful, if not slightly unsettling, silence. The path they took, though short, had endless forks along the way. Nevertheless, the large tom moved as if he had made this trip a thousand times over, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure the mage was still there. He only stopped when they came upon an opening; the ceiling lifted high above their heads, the walls splitting outwards to reveal a chamber with large pool at its center, bordered by glittering blue stone. 
///"Lay by the water," Iskandar told him. "This is where I go to pray. I do not know where you hail from, nor if you have a god. However, you are not afraid of sacrifice, and you are brave. I would like to at least grant you a moment of peace, if He permits it. You have been in a lot of pain."
///The ocarinist complied, and though his side still hurt from the battle, he managed to lay down comfortably against the cold, hard stone. He closed his eyes, letting the silence drown out the endless murmuring of his unsettled heart. His grief hung in the air as he thought about Fanael, the cat he thought would have been his new companion, now off to who knows where, even after he'd saved his life a second time. According to Tsaniyya, all this time, Fanael had been belittling him, teasing him... and it hurt to think about. 
///He took his time by the pool, deciding to think about something else. He wandered down the memory lane, tracing steps back from the caverns, to the beach, to the river, and to the lodge, reminiscing in his childhood. Of the splashing river and the singing birds, of the warmth of his parents' embrace, of the happiness within his heart, of the music that he learned to live by.
///It pained him to realize he was just as happy when he was with Fanael. He opened his eyes, unsure of how much time had passed. His paws held the ocarina tightly, and he bit his lip, wondering if he could ever play the songs of his childhood again now that Fanael was gone. The memory felt like a wound fresher than the stump of his horn. He rose to his feet, a somber expression on his face. I'm searching for a song tonight, he thought. If he ever wanted to play music again... he would have to find his footing once more. Perhaps Catalena would be musical enough for him.
///Iskandar bowed his head at him, and then beckoned to exit the cave. "Your weapon?" he asked, gesturing at the ocarina with his tail. 
///"Yes," he replied. 
///"Magic intrigues me." Iskandar's curiosity seemed to be getting the better of him. The ocarinist sensed another question hanging in the still air of the passageways they walked through, but the regal leader kept his silence until the mage broke it once more. 
///"He taught me," he began cautiously, "he taught me everything I needed to know. He told me how to use it as my magic item, and... and now he's gone, and I'm not sure what to do. I don't have a home. I thought he would stay in Catalena with me, I saved his life after all, but he's... he's just gone."
///Iskandar drew in a breath as the two of them neared the exit of the cave. "Tsaniyya has a tongue sharper than my sword, but she is right about one thing. You have shown companionship and sacrifice, but you have been wronged." He slowed to a stop, then faced the ocarinist. Though he was large in size, he regarded him as an equal, bowing his head to the little mage. "I see purity in your heart and conviction in your mind. It would be an honor to have you in my guild."
///The mage looked back at Iskandar. "I... It would be an honor to be here," he replied, carefully choosing his words. "My parents... they told me I needed to move on and find somewhere I belonged. I have been searching for Catalena for so long, and now I'm here! And... and I want to stay, truly, your guild has been so kind to me."
///Satisfied, Iskandar lifted his chin. "You need a name, young one." After a pause, he continued. "If you allow me, I wish to bestow upon you a name to reflect your steadfast, unrelenting companionship."
///The mage nodded. 
///"Khalil Al-Muali," pronounced the masked tom ceremoniously. "The most loyal friend."

[Goddess Sword]

///It had been a long time since Fanael had joined Starsong. But at last, they were ready. Despite their blindness, Suterra took the lead, Rugan following closely behind them and Fanael taking up the rear, the other cats of the guild forming a small mass between them. They all chattered happily amongst themselves, excited, full of wonder and hope (Suterra, despite the calm, confident mask they’d put on, no doubt the one most giddy to finally reach the surface - All they’d formed this guild for was finally within their grasp!). Even quiet little Dota was chatting quietly to her guildmates. All the guild was so giddy.
///All, that is, except Fanael.
///It wasn’t for lack of interest in the surface; he still hoped he might find something for him up there. And it wasn’t for lack of care for his guildmates - Despite his initial resistance and cold shoulder, he’d eventually found himself warming up to Catalena and its people, even getting to the point where he’d begun referring to his former allies as Caligos, rather than their self-referential Hanerians.
///No, he had come to rather enjoy life in Catalena, despite everything, and his looking to the future above for hope had never changed. But something else had.
///It’s said that time heals all wounds, and there’s something to be said for that; the great gash that once marred his skin and fur had slowly but surely healed into a... not particularly pleasant to look at up close, but much smaller and less noticeable scar over time. But there are certain things that time only deepens, and the more he’d tried not to dwell on it, the more persistent it seemed in pushing itself to the forefront of his mind.
///A sudden gust of wind struck him from his thoughts, and the murmurs in the clowder turned to awed quiet. “We’re here,” Suterra said, then turned back to the guild, calm demeanor shattered. “Well! What are we waiting for? Let’s go, everyone!” And they sprinted off up the last stretch of the cave opening and out into the sun, the others following quickly behind them, scattering as the warm golden light washed over them.
///Fanael slipped up past Suterra as they sat in the sun, gazing up at... the leaves of a tree. Rugan pawed at their face, turning their eyes to the sky proper, and they laughed and mumbled a joking thanks under their breath, though he couldn’t hear it well as he wandered over to the quiet babbling of a brook that, some ways downstream, fed into a larger river. Next to that stream he gave in and let those thoughts so desperately trying to claw their way to the surface reach their goal, and he lay for several hours, until the moon rose and sun set.
///Then last Fanael rose, and wandered over to where Suterra and Rugan still sat, the former still staring intently at the sky, the latter watching their leader in silence. “So,” he said, sitting down next to the pair and struggling to fill the silence. “Nice sky.”
///Tears welled up in Suterra’s eyes, and as much as they tried, they couldn’t blink fast enough to wipe them away before they began to spill their banks and streak wet their fur. “I can’t see them,” they whispered with shaky breaths. “I can’t... I... I came all this way, and...”
///Rugan placed a paw on theirs. “Hey, hey there. It’s okay, ‘terra. There’s more to the surface than some sky nobody could ever reach.” He looked at Fanael with a look of weary sadness, as if he had seen this coming. “Right, Tie Boy?”
///Fanael rolled his eyes at the nickname (why did Rugan insist on calling him that still, even now?), but patted Suterra’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he agreed, though he really didn’t know for sure. “Plenty more.”
///“I-I know that. It’s... it’s just...” they choked on the words. “Everyone... everyone else can- can find what they’re looking for up here, but I... I’ve been s-sitting here for hours, and I ca-an’t see... I can’t...” And they crumpled beneath the weight of Fanael’s paw on their back, curling into a ball to hide their sobs.
///A wave of sympathy crashed over Fanael, and he curled up next to them. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I... I understand. Not being able to find what you were looking for up here. I know.” He seemed to shrink down into his mane. “I... I’ve told you about how I used to be a Caligo, right?”
///Suterra simply nodded in affirmative, not meeting his gaze - Though whether it was out of sadness or being unable to see him and knowing whether they looked or not made no difference, he wasn’t sure.
///“And you know how we were sort of... banished from the surface?” Another nod. “I came up here hoping... I don’t know. That it’d spark something in me, that it’d feel like home, or like something I was missing had finally been found.” He huffed softly, one of resignation. “Instead I spent the past seven hours laying by a river and pondering all the stupid, awful things I’ve done.”
///“...Yeah?” they responded, sniffling.
///“Yeah,” he confirmed. “You know that scar on my side?”
///“The one I helped treat when we met?”
///“That’s the one. Know how I got it?”
///Suterra shook their head.
///“For what it’s worth,” Rugan chimed in, “I figured you got your head handed to you by an Orial because you were too stubborn to give up when you saw you were losing. Seems in-character for you.”
///“Yeah, yeah, bite me,” Fanael snarked. “I got it in a raid. Not the ones the people of Catalena fight against monsters. One where I was the one they were fighting against.”
///Neither of them responded.
///“I was so confident, sure of my decisions. We were in the right, that’s what I’d always believed. It didn’t matter that you guys never struck first against us, at least while I was alive, or even that we targeted innocent travelers. We were right, and you were wrong. We were good, you were evil. At least, until that raid,” he continued. “I nearly died that day. I hadn’t even realized they’d hit me, let alone that badly. It was only after the panic, and the retreat, when I was lost in the tunnels and bleeding out on my own, that things started to change.
///“Some nameless cat from the surface found me unconscious and dragged me off into a secluded cave and dressed my wounds. He saved my life, that guy, and I was...” He sighed. “I was an ungrateful ass. Treated him like garbage. Threatened him, called him names. He asked me to help him get to Catalena. I only agreed because I was too stuck up to let myself be in debt to some cat who had no idea what he was doing about anything; or at least, that’s what it seemed like at the time.
///“When we finally got to Catalena, I saw the Caligos who I’d fought with, in the middle of raiding the city again. And so I basically dropped him off, said ‘good luck with whatever’, and went to rejoin them. I ran off to help destroy everything he’d been searching for. And you know what happened?” He paused. “They called me a traitor and tried to kill me. And that kid used his magic, the magic I taught him, to save me. Again. I still see the look on his face when I sleep sometimes.”
///“...Then what?”
///“I ran and hid. Like a coward. Til I got sloppy and Rugan found me holed up by his shop, and I joined you guys.”
///Suterra was quiet, their crying having stopped. “What about that cat?” they asked at last.
///“Don’t know. That battle was the last I ever saw of him,” he answered, then paused. “I hope he’s alright.”
///Silence fell over a group for the time.
///“He liked music,” Fanael said at last. “He had this ocarina that he played. I think he might have carved it himself. The monsters found us because he wouldn’t listen when I told him to stop. But I guess I sort of miss it.”
///“Ocarinas are pretty old instruments,” Rugan commented, “but they hold up pretty well even now. Simple enough to make, at least the smaller ones. And there’s of different kinds. Some of em are pretty hard to come by. Those ones with multiple chambers? They fetch a nice price, because they have a bigger range of notes than others. I’ve seen triple-chambered ones go for hundreds of coins.”
///“Huh,” Fanael said. “Never knew that. The multiple chamber thing and all. Wonder what kind his was.”
///“I bet it sounded lovely,” Suterra said.
///“Yeah,” Fanael agreed. "It did." Then a thought struck him. “Hey, Suterra. I know you really wanted to see the stars. But you named the guild Starsong, right?”
///They nodded, unsure what he was getting at.
///“I know it wouldn’t be the same, but... if you were interested in continuing on that whole guild name thing, I think... I think I’d like to stay up here for a while and learn to play music. Like he did. Pick up an instrument or something,” Fanael explained. “And then, maybe... if we went back to Catalena...”
///“...You could try to find that cat and apologize,” Suterra finished.
///“Yeah,” he said.
///Suterra sat, contemplating this for a time. And then, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds... nice. It’s no night sky, but... I think that might be okay.” They turned to face him, or at least the direction of his voice, though they couldn’t be sure their gaze had met his. “I’d love to learn music with you, Fanael. Thank you.”
///He smiled softly, though they couldn’t see it. “I’m glad to have you along, Suterra.”
///I’m gonna swallow my pride someday, Fanael thought, and I’m gonna knock on your door one day. And I hope... Whether you accept my apology or not, I hope you reach the happiness you deserve.

[hypnowave]

///With each passing day, Khalil hoped he was making his parents proud.
///Catalena was a wonderful place, every bit as lovely as when he first heard it described to him. Though he didn't venture into town often, preferring to stay among the guild members he had grown close to, he was certain that he belonged here. Khalil spent most of his days perfecting his music; the hustle and bustle of daily life here was more than enough for him to harmonize with. The harking of sellers at the market, the songs that cats would play in the town square, the percussion of book-stacking and page-turning in the library, the clangs and thuds at the blacksmith's; it all came together in the form of a medley that he constantly rewrote and edited, taking away and adding elements as he went. It was a labor of love, one he was elated to do.
///As the first mage of Laskar Al-Gaza'ir, Khalil preferred to work on his magic alone rather than study in the library. Even with Zulfiqar's help, reading came slowly to him. In the meantime, he practiced magic in the deep caves of the guild. The reverb of its enclosed spaces allowed him to concentrate on sharpening the edges of his skills, and the numerous pools and little streams enabled him to immerse himself in the element. He also fell into the routine of visiting the prayer chamber before each training session in order to meditate, often pondering about his past and future, though never forgetting the present.
///Zulfiqar felt like a brother to Khalil. They were both younger members of the guild, and began to bond when Khalil first saw Zulfi's illustrations. Upon learning that Khalil had no idea how to read, he began to teach him the alphabet. The mage liked picture books and kittens' story books, occasionally asking Zulfi to borrow one for him during library visits. In return, Khalil assisted Zulfi in irrigating his personal herb garden, where he would perform simple experiments to research plant growth. Khalil also escorted Zulfi during foraging missions, keeping an eye out while the forager busily sketched and scribbled in his little journal.
///Tsaniyya, caring as she was, reminded Khalil a bit too much of the cat who betrayed him so long ago. As such, it took him a while to warm up to her and her "tough love" mentality. Her words were always sharp as daggers, even when Khalil helped her manage her stall. Sometimes, he wondered how she was able to badmouth both Khalil's traitor and Khalil himself in the same breath. At the very least, she never called him a twerp. At the end of the day, though, Khalil did realize she looked out for him, checking in on him whenever possible. Whenever she obtained a musical instrument, she would also make sure to show him, even asking if he wanted to keep anything.
///Iskandar, however, only mystified Khalil. Although he was in charge of this guild, the masked tom always carried himself with a foreign air that permeated the atmosphere, never quite involving himself with his guild members. Tsaniyya once muttered that as much as she valued and respected him, his "believer" tirade felt old and beaten. Khalil could only guess that Zulfiqar felt the same way. He was told that the guild was supposed to be a group of pure-hearted, pious cats, banding together in order to make it back to the surface. And yet... Iskandar's veracity felt like it was faltering, a dimming candle that paled in comparison to the regal air he had when he first recruited and named Khalil.
///Besides that, the three members could agree that his recruitment standards were just odd. The most recent addition to their roster, a tall and lanky tom who went by the name of Joyvanka, pretty much proved it. The gun-slinging mage was eccentric and rowdy, and within just five days of arriving to Catalena, he'd somehow won Iskandar's favor. Khalil still had yet to know him, but he was aware that Iskandar had conversed plenty with the newcomer, and that it caused him to falter even more. Iskandar simply didn't seem like his old enigmatic self—he spent more time praying than ever before, and it concerned Khalil.
///Not long after Joyvanka's recruitment, Khalil caught Iskandar at the mouth of the caverns. The founder's movements were stiff and each step looked as though it were weighed by immense doubt, and Khalil's heart ached for him. The cat who had taken pity on him, helped him get back on his feet, now looked so beaten down and lost.
///"Iskandar," Khalil greeted, bowing his head. "I wanted to talk to you."
///"What is it?" The founder's voice was hollow, yet his ears perked up. He was being sincere despire how drained he felt, Khalil realized.
///"I... I wanted to ask if you wanted to go for a walk with me."

---

///They headed towards one of Khalil's favorite places: a biome similar to the first one he discovered in the catacombs. It had a pool, a high ceiling, lush greenery and even singing crickets, and yet it was secluded enough that they could have a private conversation. On their way, Khalil found himself counting the lanterns that dotted the walls of the corridor they passed through. He wasn't sure how he was going to break the ice despite all the questions bubbling up within him.
///He was lucky, then, that Iskandar decided to end the silence. "You have been working hard on your song, no?"
///"I have," he replied. He lightly tapped the ocarina for emphasis. "I can play it for you later."
///"That would be nice." Iskandar's voice was wistful. "Your music reminds me of my time on the surface." He fell silent for a short while, as if lost in thought. "You are from the surface as well. Why do you never play songs from where you hail from?"
///Khalil bit his lip. He thought back to how much Iskandar knew, and decided to just be honest. "Well... they remind me too much of my friend. The one who left me when I first arrived here. I played those songs almost every day, and he taught me how to use it to channel my magic... but you already know that."
///Iskandar said nothing, so Khalil continued. "Every day, I try to forget his name and I try to let go, but it feels so lonely. Iskandar, I can't thank you enough for inviting me here, I've never felt so at home, you know? And I know that all I need to do is let go, forget about him, forget about how he hurt me. My songs from the surface mean so much to me, I shouldn't let memories of him get in the way, but... but it's difficult." His voice wavered as his throat tightened in a sob. "It's really, really difficult."
///The corridor walls opened up and the two cats stepped into the clearing, where they lay down next to a mossy log. "It is difficult," echoed Iskandar. "I cannot deny that."
///"What do you mean?" Khalil blurted out, his curiosity getting the better of him.
///Iskandar glanced at him. "Joyvanka is like us. He came from the surface. He told me about his past, and how he does not want to return." He drew a labored breath before continuing. "Khalil, I do not know about you, but I could not understand him. I cannot understand not wanting to return."
///Khalil maintained his silence. He wasn't sure how to reply. What could he even say, when he was ushered on by his parents, encouraged to discover something new? What of Joyvanka and Iskandar, what of their lives and families? He felt like he had no say in the matter.
///"Where is his honor?" Iskandar went on. "Where is his sense of responsibility? What about his parents? His family?" The founder's voice began to break, and Khalil wanted to hug him. "Maybe... maybe he didn't have them, maybe he had nowhere else to go."
///Falling silent, Iskandar pawed at his mask. He seemed so utterly lost, so trapped. He must be crying underneath the mask. He drew a breath. "It is hard to let go, no?"
///"It is," Khalil replied.
///"Tell me," Iskandar said, facing him. "Tell me what it was like, being on the surface."
///"Well..." Khalil chittered nervously; it was a reflex he rarely displayed nowadays. "I remember birdsong. Birds always sang, and trees always rustled in the breeze..."
///"I remember waking up by the river. I don't know what life was like for me before that, but... I was raised by a pair of beavers." He felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "They were old, and I think their own kits had long left the lodge. They taught me how to forage and they taught me how to swim, that's why I use water magic. And... they made me so happy. They taught me to hear the music in everything. I would sing and dance and play, even when they told me it was time to sleep."
///"When spring arrived they told me to seek something new. I think... I think they knew they wouldn't live to see many more seasons. It took me so long to accept their final wishes... but I left for the catacombs at their request. I like to think they're happy," he concluded, a wistful, nostalgic tone in his voice.
///A heavy sigh escaped Iskandar. Khalil watched as the tom pawed at the straps of his mask, realizing that he was taking it off. He felt obligated not to look, instead directing his view towards the grass beneath him.
///"You remind me so much of him," Iskandar murmured. Khalil heard him sniffle before continuing. "He loved music. He would always sing our prayers, masya Allah, how he sang. He loved the rustling of the palm trees and the singing of birds. And he was so compassionate... he thought everyone was his friend."
///Khalil closed his eyes, trying to picture Iskandar without the mask. He still didn't dare look. "... Who was he?"
///"My brother. Khalil was my brother." Iskandar's voice dragged heavily through the air. "It is true that his name meant 'friend,' but I also named you after him because I did not want to forget him. He was... very ill, the last time I heard of him. Many seasons have passed and I do not know what on Earth happened to him. I disappeared, trapped in the Catacombs..."
///Khalil opened his eyes and, for the first time, saw Iskandar's face. The grizzled tom's eyes were clouded with grief, tears spilling from his eyes, staining his black-white-and-red fur. There were scars running down his face, among other features, but Khalil was simply taken aback by how normal he looked. Somehow, he always pictured him as a regal figure, a symbol, just like the one on their guild banner. A cat untouchable. Instead, here he was, stricken with grief over something that likely happened before Khalil was even born. It reminded him of the day they first met, and how Khalil had felt. He wasn't scared, he was terrified. He was alone. Did Iskandar feel that way upon realizing he was trapped in the catacombs?
///"Iskandar..."
///The tom smiled halfheartedly. "That was why I made this guild. I know God put me here as a test... I just want to see my brother again. But the years go by, and I think of the war that tore my people apart... it is likely that my brother has reached the gates of Paradise before I had a chance to say goodbye." A bitter laugh followed. "Perhaps it was fate. Perhaps God wanted to punish me for something I did. Perhaps that was why he wanted to test me."
///Khalil found himself scrambling for words. All this time, he had a namesake, namesake who meant that much to Iskandar. And now he was showing his face to him, telling him this story... it was the least he could do to comfort him.
///"Well... maybe God put you here for another reason. Maybe it was never a test. Maybe... maybe you were sent down here for cats like me." Khalil thought back to the raid where they first met, and how Iskandar patiently waited by his side as he dealt with the grief of being left behind. He thought of Zulfiqar, and how Iskandar was the one who rescued him. "Maybe for cats like Tsaniyya and Zulfiqar. Maybe even for cats like Joyvanka," he added, thinking of the newcomer. "Letting go is difficult," he repeated. "But you have done so much for us, Iskandar. You have done so much for me. I think... I think that would have made your brother happy."
///There was a bit of shuffling as Iskandar wiped his own tears. "I hope so. I really hope so. I lived for nothing but his happiness," he confessed. "Perhaps... perhaps we both need to learn to let go."
///Khalil nodded. "Perhaps... perhaps we do," he said. Perhaps it really was time. As he rose to his feet, watching Iskandar put his mask back on, he felt a great weight slide off his shoulders.
///He let go, and he felt kind of like he was going home.

[Goddess Sword]

///Fanael stepped quietly through the streets on the outskirts of the city, far below the grass and clouds and trees and sky. How long had it been since he’d last set foot in this place he had once known as the home of his enemies? It must have been months, years even. His every sound, from his soft breaths to the shifts of the bulky (somewhat cumbersome, even) instrument on his back, seemed to echo off the cave walls, rebounding again and again until they merged into a cacophony before eventually fading into silence. He could have sworn he remembered it being more lively than this… but perhaps this was simply the nature of early morning Catalena.
///He hadn’t the faintest idea where he was going, or even what he could do to try and find his target now that he was down below. The cat had never had a name, or at least none that he could understand - He thought back to that sequence of chirps and chitters for a moment, but try as he might, he couldn’t recall the pattern. He supposed he might be able to give his description and try to find him through that, but who would he ask? Catalena was a large city, and the chances of finding any one cat among the who knows how many… But he supposed that would be his best bet.
///That is, until he heard an all too familiar sound rising in the distance. The sound of battle.
///He hesitated a moment, but quickly made up his mind. He had run enough times in his life. If his people needed him, he would gladly fight by their sides. And so he dashed off in the direction of the noise.
///The scene was one of chaos, the scent of burning and fire in the air, and Fanael was quickly able to identify the source of the smell; at the mouth of a cave leading down into the deeper parts of the catacombs stood a Fire Orial, proud and powerful, the very creature that, so long ago, he had warned his companion about. And between himself and the beast were the cats so thoroughly missing from the normally active city streets, flinging spells and brandishing weapons, hissing and growling with a ferocity matching that of their enemy as they fought to defend their home.
///Every bit of him wanted to run upon seeing the great monster. But no. He was done fleeing. And so he steeled himself, slipping his instrument off of his back. With a deep breath, he settled it in front of him at the back of the lines and drew his bow; one made for playing, rather than firing arrows. And, focusing on the Orial, he slipped it over the cello’s strings.
///As the chord rang out from his instrument, a jet of water like a fire hose joined it, firing straight into the beast’s face, and it recoiled from the impact. The battling Catalenans paused for just a moment to look at the source of the tones, before giving another resounding battle cry and, with renewed confidence, began their assault on the creature anew.
///It was a long, hard-fought battle, as ones against Orials so often are. But eventually, with Fanael’s magic on their side, the Catalenans emerged victorious, and the beast withdrew, giving an angry roar before fleeing into the darkness beyond the edges of the city. It would likely be back, they all knew that. But for now, they had won.
///The fight must have been going on for even longer than Fanael had imagined, because soon the cats around him were passing him by, yawning and looking quite sleep-deprived. They must have been fighting all night, he thought. He couldn’t in good conscience keep them from their rest any longer, not after a battle like that. He supposed he would have to wait.
///...That is, until he spotted a face in the crowd, one he hadn’t seen in ages, and yet he could never get to leave his mind. The cat watched him, confusion and disbelief in his eyes. And Fanael stared back, a sudden pit in his stomach as he was hit by a torrent of thoughts. Oh gods, he thought, that’s… That’s him. It’s him. I- I didn’t think… I can’t. I can’t do this. I need to do this. Oh, gods, I…
///All the memories of everything that had transpired between them made him feel like he’d been stabbed in the side again, unexpected and sharp as he was suddenly, dreadfully aware that this was it, that the moment he’d been working for all that time up on the surface had finally arrived. He was terrified, as much so as the day his life had changed forever as he fled into the city, as much as the day the two of them had been attacked by that Firesprite and barely escaped, as much as the moment when he realized that he would surely bleed out alone in the tunnels and die.
///Fighting through his pounding heart and shaky breaths, he stood, carrying his instrument with him, and made his way over to the cat, tears welling up in his eyes that he desperately tried to blink them away.
///Instead, as he approached, they began to spill over as he realized how much had changed. The cat bore scars, ones that Fanael could only imagine he’d obtained in the raid where he’d once again saved his life - Namely, a broken horn, one which left him asymmetric and looking utterly more hardened than Fanael remembered him being.
///He stopped before the cat and tried to speak, but found no words could make their way from his tongue to the air around them, forced down by the tightness in his throat. He swallowed and tried again, but still nothing came out but his ragged, shaky breaths, feeling so small before the cat who he had once protected.
///This isn’t working, Fanael thought, the only comprehensible thing in the jumble that was his consciousness. And so he took another breath, still shaky but deeper, and pulled his instrument around to his front, drawing his bow. And, through his tears, he began to play.
///At once the tears falling from his eyes began to flow outwards, circling slowly around them like a gentle whirlpool, and the water trapped in the earth and stone below welled up at their feet to form a still, shallow pool which reflected their images like a mirror, surface only broken by the tiny shifts of their bodies as they stood across from one another. Familiar tunes filled the air, the sounds of the wind in the trees and babbling brooks and singing birds, sparrows and cardinals and chickadees and the soft, sad calls of mourning doves, played on strings with practiced paws and yet feeling improvised, as though summoned from nothing but the emotions within him.
///It felt, to Fanael, like he played for years, and like he cried for years, until there were no more songs to put to strings and no more water left within him to spill. And so, with one last chord, one which seemed to last an eternity, he drew his bow from the cello and let it rest at his side, the water that had swirled around them lowering gently into the pool at their feet, sending ripples across its surface.
///Fanael trembled, still terrified, still filled with sorrow, but at last the tightness in his throat had loosened enough to let sounds out, and he spoke. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked through what felt like tonsillitis, so swollen was his throat, tears he didn’t think he still held threatening to let loose again. “I’m so, so sorry.”
///The cat just watched him, that disbelieving look still on his face, as if Fanael were a phantom, a ghost of a long lost life.
///“I… I never should have… I never meant to… I… I was so… so caught up in…” One last tear managed to well its way to the surface and leave a streak down his face before dripping to join the rest in their home at the pair’s feet. “I know my yesterdays are a disgrace, but… tell me, do you still recall my name?”
///At last, the ocarinist spoke. “I do,” he confirmed, though Fanael couldn’t identify the look on his face nor the tone of his voice, almost as if disguised by a mask. But his next words gave him some tiny light, a spark of hope like those of magic that he had taught the cat so long ago. “You can call me Khalil.”
///He hoped that spark would burn as bright as Khalil’s eventually grew to.

[Goddess Sword]

KABOOM! - Owned by I Fight Dragons
Kerosene - Owned by Red Vox
Paid In Exposure - Owned by NateWantsToBattle
The Diving Board - Owned by Elton John
Save Rock and Roll - Owned by Fall Out Boy
Ocean Eyes - Owned by Owl City
A Head Full of Dreams - Owned by Coldplay
Skin & Earth - Owned by Lights
Pray for the Wicked - Owned by Panic! at the Disco
V - Owned by Maroon 5
Not a Trampoline - Owned by Rob Cantor
Lonely (Where Jellyfish Come From) - Owned by Bee and PuppyCat
Siberia (Acoustic) - Owned by Lights

Artist Radio - Owned by Spotify
Music player buttons by Spotify

Header art - Created by Goddess Sword
Spotify radio and music players - Created by Goddess Sword
KABOOM! - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Define Me - Art and writing by reyligion
Bones - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Alone Together - Art by reyligion, writing by reyligion and Goddess Sword
Tidal Wave - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Adventure of a Lifetime - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Savage - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Roaring 20s - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Maps - Art and writing by reyligion
La Telanovela - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Lonely (Where Jellyfish Come From) - Art and writing by reyligion
Cactus in the Valley (Acoustic) - Art and writing by Goddess Sword
Coding - Created by Goddess Sword
Credits and Commentary - Written by Goddess Sword

• The decision to make Fanael a Caligo came early in the development of his and Khalil's story, in reference to the group's depiction in Raid 002, where they were shown as being dark-furred cats with glowing red eyes. This decision ultimately shaped the pair's story, providing the perfect reasoning for the two to go their separate ways and join other guilds.
• Lonely (Where Jellyfish Come From) was the first song selected for the playlist, but its final spot in the set wasn't finalized until about halfway through its creation. Define Me was the last song added, after I (Goddess Sword) was reminded of Red Vox while watching a Vinesauce stream.
• The flow of our playlist was designed to be split up into multiple segments based on Fanael and Khalil's connections in life and where their paths overlapped - The flowchart we used can be seen on this Google Doc.
• You might have noticed that the first several songs in the playlist seem to jump quickly between intense (KABOOM!, Bones) and more relaxed (Define Me, Oceans Away), but becomes more consistent in flow during later entries. This was done intentionally, to highlight the growing bond and sync between the pair.
• In Roaring 20s, mention is made of Starsong needing an apothecary - While preparing these forms, this role was taken up by Dota, the guild's newest recruit! Because the entry was written before her joining, I (Goddess Sword) opted to set it before her coming to the guild, for the sake of not needing to overhaul the plot late in development - However, a small nod to her was added in during the opening section of La Telanovela during the editing process!
• Though Fanael is initially shown using ice magic, in reference to the (currently) ultimate Freezesprite Magic upgrade, he is later depicted using water magic during Cactus in the Valley (Acoustic) - This decision was made in reference to Khalil's love of the element, as a way of showing how he effected Fanael, and justified by water simply being the liquid form of ice.
• While deciding on the playlist, we were initially trying to avoid repeating artists - However, we agreed to end the set with Cactus in the Valley (Acoustic), performed by two artists already featured in the playlist. We thought that it served as a nice callback to the pair's time together, featuring one artist from a high and one from a low point for the pair, as well as having a different enough sound that it wouldn't feel repetitive.
• One of the ideas that was considered but ultimately dropped due to lack of time was the creation of a final song of our own, which would have utilized the pair's instruments of choice (Cello for Fanael and ocarina for Khalil) in a medley of sorts of the other songs in the playlist, similarly to the one found in What a Catch, Donnie by Fall Out Boy, and samples of waves collected from a local beach and park in the background. Though this didn't come to pass, I (Goddess Sword) did collect the samples intended for it, and would love to use them for this purpose in the future!
• Fanael and Khalil's instruments of choice were chosen for various reasons. Fanael's choice of the cello was selected both due to its larger size than others in its family, representing his prideful ways, and in reference to his Octopath namesake, Alephan, who Fanael's name is a corruption of; as the Scholarking, his job is the primary job of Cyrus, whose signature instrument in the soundtrack is a violin, from the same family. Khalil, meanwhile, was given a more simple instrument in the form of an ocarina, an instrument whose basic forms are relatively simple to make, and in reference to his fairly simple life away from cat society with the beavers, as well as to Pokémon the Movie 2000: The Power of One, where an instrument resembling an ocarina is used to play the song of Lugia, described by the film as the guardian of the sea.
• The art for Adventure of a Lifetime, based on Coldplay's A Head Full of Dreams, was created at a higher resolution, then duplicated, flipped, and shrunk down to fit the 450x450 size of the other pieces. The original quarter of the piece can be seen in greater detail here, depicting both our characters, an interpretation of a Firesprite based on the art used in Raid 001 of a Freezesprite, and various items from the Catacombs.
• Though not explicitly stated, Khalil's biological parents sent him downriver, whereupon he eventually found his adoptive beaver parents, in a bid for his life after being attacked by the Caligos, something briefly implied by comments in Fanael's sections such as "targeting even mere travelers and their kits."
• Joyvanka, the recruit mentioned in Lonely (Where Jellyfish Come From), is not yet an official Catacombs cat, currently standing as a work in progress custom owned by reyligion.
• Khalil is depicted with hair in several art pieces created for this form - If won, reyligion plans to purchase and use a fur edit item to officially add this hair to his ref, as seen here.
• Khalil's name was selected by me (Goddess Sword) from a group picked out by Rey early in the conceptual stages of our entry - The full list of potential names was Zakir, Khalil, Daud, David, Yosef, and Zakariya. In a pretty great coincidence, we discovered that it meant friend only after I had selected it out of feeling it complimented Fanael well!
• Story and Song clocks in at 18,562 words, just over the minimum requirement of 17,500 set by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America for their Nebula Awards to be categorized as a novella. I suppose you could call it a... La Telanovella! I'm sorry.

Final word count: 18,562 story, 973 commentary, 19,535 total.
Final image count: 1 original header, 13 album cover redraws and 1 higher res quarter, 13 music players, 3 spotify radio edits, 31 total.

Thank you for reading!


Do not ever let me do this again.