Song of Melancholy

[geinkotsu]

"...Let the fate of fortune befit your end at our hands...
...We are truely sorry...."

The rain pounded hard against the rocks of the canyon, the deep surface and high cut walls providing little to not shelter from the down pour as it slid off the rocks and slowly carved their way in paths into the main road, trickling down the side and in crevasses. The sky gave low rumbles of thunder, small flashes of light illuminating parts of the clouds and giving a deep contrast to the rocks. The walls seemed dark and slick, the road vast and winding through the canyon and seemed to go on for miles as arches of rock occasionally curved over the canyon as a road from the above lands, but dangerous as the rock was unstable and was not an ideal passage. The only shelter from the torrents of hard rain was the caves carved into the rock that were separated by the maze that one would find if they strayed from the main path.

The sound of a long ghostly wind accompanied the beautiful dreary song that held such isolated emotion that it seemed it lacked emotion. It was the song of a Hollow. Its long keys and high notes giving a rather happy feeling from the usual dreary surrounding- as if the song lightened the sky and eased the hearts of those who listened. But it also felt so sad and heart-wrenching, as if watching soul-mates forced apart by death. A bright flash struck across the sky in a brilliant flare, and a loud crack sounded across the canyon in an empty accusation of fault as the storm raged on in dreary darkness. The flash of light revealed the shiny surface of what seemed like silver upon one of the arches, each sparkle of lightning dazzling the silver substance that formed as three angels singing together in perfect harmony and key. Their hair long and fluid, as were their dressed, like mercury, but did not soak in the water that slipped off their form and poured down bellow.

The three sat together, their slim perfect legs hanging from the edge of the rock with their fluid dresses hanging around their feet and blowing in the wind with nothing to weigh them down as one would expect with waterlogged clothing. Their image was perfection… but their image was a lie, a deceitful gimmick. They were only one, and they had such a faulty personality… to wish to be the Arcana of Fortune, because her greedy want for the title and to bare the honor of being a weaver of fate. Hence the title she had given herself and her sisters. Nornir…(Norse- Norn; plural — Nornir) refers to dísir, a group of female beings associated with time, destiny and fate, ruling over the fates of various races in Norse Mythology. According to Snorri Sturluson's interpretation of the Völuspá, the poem of the world's recreation in Norse Myths. Coming out from a hall standing at the Well of Urðr, The Well of Fate, the Norn draw water from the well and take sand that lies around it, pouring over the ash Yggdrasill so that its branches will not rot. The Norn is described as three powerful maiden giantesses, and their arrival from Jötunheimr ended the golden age of the gods.

How she wished to have that title to her own, to be the one who would meet all and have part of their fate and weave it to her will. How selfish she was… how disturbingly terrifying and at fault. And she feared to be the Arcana image of Death… because her emotions, they were almost completely gone by now. She relied on facts and her sheer belief in the cards as many before her did and prospered in their greatest desires. To indulge in such a belief was truly naïve, but her reading were true and she wished her desire to be granted, her fear to be erased.

But that is not what Nornir, the three beautiful hollow deities, were here for… no… Regrettably, they were here on a mission of destruction. Nornir was here to lead travelers away from their road to seek Nornir out, only to be attacked by vicious Viruses. If she did not, she would be killed herself. It was not that she feared death… it was that she would not go on in her dream. No one would remember her, no one would hear her song, no one would love her or depend on her… she wanted that. She wanted people to think well of her and remember her as an important token of their lives, she wanted for people to hear her song as a lovely innocent gratification of pure love. One may ask, if she wanted this, why she was cooperating with Virus… It was because she felt it was the only way to survive, so that people would know her. So she wouldn’t die alone without anybody. Such a foolish desire… yet she wished for it. And because of such, she was walking down a path of strife that could soon possibly end where there were no more chances to turn back and correct her mistakes.

The middle norn, was Urðr, the true self. The being and conscience of all three. Her features were much more youthful, her face showing that she was not yet in her twenties, as the others contradicted that. They were at least twenty two looking, but still youthful. Their was a bit different; Verðandi had curlier hair and a dress with thin straps, her dress having a lace tied in front that wrapped around from the back. As Skuld had hair perfectly pulled back, as if recently taken a shower and left her hair to dampen that way, her silver dress having a deep V neck to it and slightly wider straps than her sisters. As Urðr had a more pure dress, one with thick straps and a collar that seemed much like a turtle-neck, but was thin and perfect with no wrinkle in sight. Her dress held nothing but a simple silver string that tied in a thin bow in the back.

Their innocent song leading to the demise of any weak persons walking in the area. Nornir, the star of death. Such a gruesome title that one had given her… hopefully that rumor had not spread. Or to her dismay, she may end up in sorrow in a place befit for such weeping cries of a hollow no longer able to shed tears.

[matthew]

"Caught in a crossroads, which path do I take? Can't find the exit - help me out here!?"

[/color][/size]

Oh, this was just brilliant. Absolutely fantastic! He was lost... again... and in another forsaken hellhole, no less. Absolutely soaked, his clothes and hair were so saturated with water that they literally could not hold any more, and he'd been forced to wear goggles simply to see in this miserable weather - making his eyes the only part of his face that wasn't slick with wet. His ears were pressed flat against his head, and his tail drooped lifelessly between his legs, clear indications that he was not a happy Beast on this grim excuse for a day; his fangs bared in a silent snarl against whatever malicious little scrap of software had decided that it should rain never-ending on this particular patch of network.

Scrabbling over the rocky footpath, fighting for a foothold against the slippery stone, he ducked beneath an overhanging ledge that at least provided some slight relief from the driving rain. Huddling into a ball and containing what little body heat he could while he tried to collect his scattered bearings. In conditions like this, his normally keen senses were all but useless. And the general lack of visibility prevented him looking for a distant exit. More than once, the idea of simply riding the wind out of this canyon had crossed his mind - but a cautionary flash of lightning had snuffed those ideas out immediately. No way was he gonna try gliding in the middle of a damn thunderstorm.

So now he was stuck here in this place, the aptly named Weeping Canyon. Miles from warmth and comfort, it was easy to see why the unlucky explorers who'd first discovered this place had chosen such a depressing name. It was probably just the weight of his waterlogged clothes - but the harder he pushed himself through the driving rain; the heavier the burden of his emotions became. Every morning since that day, less than a week ago now, he'd felt like a different person every time he woke up. He was now a betrayal of everything he'd once been. Without the negative emotions, without all the hate and loneliness, he felt like only half a person. As though without them, there was nothing left to define him anymore.

Admittedly, a small part of him actually felt happy to be rid of them. But the majority of what he knew told him that that part of himself was wrong. His memories of what he used to enjoy clashed with his new-found sense of sympathy, and it was all he could do to hold onto his old way of life, his safety-net. He had no experience with being a nice person, and that was probably why he was stuck here. Lost in a storm, lonely and wet, in a place nobody would ever find him. The howling of the wind mingling with the pattering of the rain in a melancholy song. Accompanied by a strange, haunting melody... coming from somewhere not quite nearby.

Perking up his ears, Matthew stepped out of the makeshift shelter and listened. Strange... he'd hardly noticed it before, but now that he'd heard it, it was as though it had always been there. Calling out to him. Immediately paranoid, against his own better judgement, the Beast stepped out into the sleet once more and took a diversion away from the main path. Stepping inside the natural labyrinth of stone and feeling his way towards the song. It was growing louder now, that sweet, painful symphony that struck a chord with his own divided emotions. What was the sound's source? Who the hell would be singing in this weather? At any rate - he was just wasting time moping around out here. If there really was someone out here singing in the rain, maybe they knew a way out of this wretched maze?

"Hey! Who's out there? I'm coming to find you!"[/size]

[geinkotsu]

Nornir kicked her legs over the edge, the three maidens sitting among the overhanging bridge of that seemed miles up with nothing but a watery grave miles bellow. Their long voices seemed to go on forever with no pause what so ever, the softly high pitched dreary echoing through the empty canon. But Skuld stopped singing upon thought and the two aptly followed, their song vanishing along with the rain as another loud crack sounded in the sky with a blinding light, illuminating their angel like forms that sat there perfectly comfortable. The rain unable to touch Nornir. She stood, wings spreading out as Nornir sensed someone… It was depressing, the fate she would bestow upon this unfortunate soul that was seeking her out. And now, without a voice to guide the data form’s ears, it seemed as if her presence had vanished like a snowflake melting in the spring with no trace but indefinite influence.

Nornir’s head turned, looking over at the rocky forms that were blighted with hidden Viruses, hiding, waiting for their fill. But they watched the Hollow, keeping intense red eyes on her as they lay in wait, their movements shifty and impatient. “You will get what you wish….” Nornir whispered, their voices perfectly intact and in harmony with each other. The first one to jump was the middle body, Urðr, the true being behind the mask. And followed her puppets she so fondly named Nornir, as they were one and they were to be weavers of fate, just as the legend has spoke… Nornir glided down to the path bellow, landing peacefully on the slick rock with her two ‘sisters’. And immediately dawned upon her that the being that sought her was a beast.

The small quakes of light in the sky illuminating their forms in the heavy weather, the grays and dark valley giving the area a dull and desolate feeling. Such grim outlook on this place that only wrecked the emotions into a flurry of depression. But this emotionless beautiful figure seemed unaffected. She was a hollow, her emotions were little and could not be influenced easily. Urðr was standing on the right, while the others were more forward, acting like the main body just in case the Beast were to attack.

“Hmm…” The middle angel placed her hands together and a small deck of cards were pulled forth, appearing in her hands. The curly haired Hollow spread the cards around her palm, picking up one with the image of a blue background with glass like tiles that haloed around the head of a shadow of a man hanging upside down with his hands in his pockets and his legs crossed at the ankles. The bottom of the card holding the number ‘XII’ in roman numerals. The back of the card had blue and white decoration with a mask with a black and white side to both halves. “In the face of disaster lies the opportunity for renewal…” Nornir whispered, the three of them spoke at the same time. How awkward yet marvelous, but the sound of the screeches of Viruses protruded through the rain. Their red eyes glared down at their prey. “…but death and change is such a separate fate, intertwined by the choice of another…” her tone held a small sadness.

[matthew]

Matthew found himself once again without a guide as the singing suddenly stopped without warning. The stone formations around him taking on new twisted shapes as viruses emerged from their secret hiding places like gargoyles. Having been lying in wait, blending in with the rock all this time, a flash from the heavens alerted the Beast to the fact that he was surrounded on all sides. Malformed monstrosities slithering, streaking and stalking towards him with the malicious intent to devour, the very air around them rank with the odor of corruption and decay. Were it not so wet - he would have smelled them miles away. But this change in fortune was too intricate to be coincidence. Someone had planned this from the beginning!

As if to conform this revelation, a harmony of three voices speaking as once prompted him to look upwards, beholding three shining figures descending upon the main path, standing directly between him and the only exit. Wraith-like in their serene beauty, Matthew snarled at them all the same. No doubt it was these maidens who had lured him here! A suspicion confirmed by the fact that the Viruses seemed to pay them no attention. Reciting some sort of prophecy: Matthew regretted that he did not have the time to pay proper attention, as the Viruses were drawing dangerously close. He could feel the effects of their distortion in the air around him: tainting the air with pestilence and corroding the stone.

Desperate to avoid a similar fate, the Beast spread his arms wide and called out to the wind in desperation. Sending out a short-range blast of compressed air in all directions that sent any Viruses caught too close to his body flying back towards the rocks. Some of them shattered like glass upon impact - while others simply got back up again. Culling the weak and leaving only the strong left to fight their cornered foe. Shifting into Coyote form, the Beast spang forth and darted towards the three standing maidens. Perceiving them to be frail and easy targets. Pouncing through the air to the accompaniment of thunder, emulating some Norse mythology of his own, he spread his jaws wide and lunged to devour the offending hand of the lead maiden in the manner of the beast Fenrir. The monster child of the trickster Loki who bit off the hand of the noble god Tyr - also known as the "god of the hanged." In the process - he would also be swallowing the arcana which the maiden seemed to hold so dear.

[geinkotsu]

Nornir watched his attempts to kill the Viruses, but the numerous assailants would be hard to vanquish. She thought he must have been rash to try such a thing, understood that all did the same to try to survive, and usually, had they failed, they die. However, at that moment, the coyote turned to her, its jaws sharp and powerful, something she perhaps could not withstand. Urðr forced her counterparts to flee away as she tried to use her skill to throw him off track, but he was much quicker than she, running against the rain in clear contrast of the wind. Nornir took a last attempt to move out of the way the moment he jumped at her, but it was obvious she’d not make it. Her soft eyes that held no humanity showing a hindrance of fear and sadness.

The sound of crushing metal echoed off the walls with a painful scream. The Beast’s jaws ripped through her metal skin as if it were tinfoil, tearing through the wire beneath and disjointing her arm from her body. The gray wires underneath sparked and sizzled as the rain touched it, the maiden falling to the floor from the sheer momentum and power of the beast, hitting the ground with a hollow clank. The cards her hand once held sent to the sky and fluttered down, erupting in soft blue flames and disintegrating as they touching the ground. There was silence once more, the Viruses lurking around the walls. Waiting for reaction, movement, enjoying the anticipation of the game. They did not care if the Hollow died, in fact, she was a mere pawn to them. If she came close to dying, they would take the chance to kill them both like the savages they were. But Nornir never acknowledged their primitive beastly ways, she only cooperated with them to survive… what more could she do.

She lay on her side, soft flowing hair surrounding her almost lifeless body. But she gave knowledge she was not yet dead, using her only arm to pull herself up as her sisters came to her, tending to her on a whim as if they shared a mental connection. Although anyone in the network could speak through minds, it was clear these three were different. But only because they were one. “So… tenacious…” She whispered. “You will die if you like it or not, what difference does it make to fight?” Uror looked up as she sat there, gazing at the Beast. “Why try when you will die even if it isn’t now. All this world offers in an eternal end.”

[matthew]

A triumphant snarl rising in his throat, the Coyote ripped off the silver Nornir's hand with a powerful bite from his jaws, his fangs crunching metal as the momentum from his jump carried him past her, leaving the injured Hollow lying broken on the ground. Her once perfect form now tarnished by the grievous wound he had inflicted. Spitting out the crumpled shrapnel, he turned and bared his canine teeth in a savage grin. His feral pride quickly replaced by a feeling of cold shame as he watched her struggle upright with the aid of her "sisters", realizing that she had no intention of retaliating.

She had never been the threat at all. Normally this sort of thing would never bother him, but now the Beast felt his rage cooled by sympathy for the helpless being he had just maimed. While the rational side of himself argued that as a Hollow: she was incapable of experiencing true emotion, not just the memory. Something in her words and voice spoke nothing but sadness, her outlook on existence so bleak and pessimistic that it made him feel disgusted as well as humbled. What manner of creature were these women? Seeking an end to life simply because it was destined to end anyway? Where was the meaning in that? Try as he might, he couldn't help but feel a shred of pity for the misguided androids.

The air shimmering as he transformed back to normal, he walked over to the Hollow and helped her regain her balance, the Viruses watching in silence and waiting for their moment while they tried to determine what was going on. Unsure if he was motivated by guilt or compassion, the Beast simply stared into the eyes of what appeared to be the lead maiden. "What the hell makes you so sure?" He muttered. Though he honestly doubted that he would be able to convince her - he at least wanted to make his opinions heard. "You ask what difference it makes if I fight? Well, what difference does it make if I die?" It was a rhetorical question, but it earned him a few shrieks from the listening Viruses, all of whom were eager to find out for themselves.

Turning around, Matt raised an arm warningly, causing some of the more cautious ones to duck back behind cover again. A few of them were impatient however, and charged him anyway. Only to be thrown into the air by a hurricane updraft from beneath that sent them tumbling to their individual deaths; with the exception of one, who was struck by a wayward bolt of lightning. "What about you?" He asked with his back still turned to the Hollow. "If life is so meaningless, then what are you holding onto?"

[geinkotsu]

Nornir stared at him, their eyes gazing at him with the same expression. As if his words had been shoved down her throat and she had no way to swallow them. Her eyes portraying a distant bleak stare as they stilled at his actions. The three Hollow…. No, the one hollow, was struck by his words. She’d never really thought about it because she never had too before the network, and she lost just about any sensible compassion or kindness she once had. She had all the knowledge and wisdom of the cards… yet her reasoning was all but a shredded memory. “I…” the words were stuck in her throat and she let her sights fall away from the back of the coyote… What was this she was feeling? This tightness that seemed to be strangling her as her thoughts were not processing correctly…

Her personality was a conformity of the thoughts of viruses and those who’d given up hope. What did she really think? What did her human self believe? She didn’t know… She couldn’t think like her old self, she was no longer that which everyone could have loved and gotten along with. Her ultimate misfortune to be turned into a hollow and misguided… But she would not give up her ways so easily. No, it was not that easy. It never could be. She was a hollow, and her feelings were morsels of her being that had yet to entirely dissipate. In fact, she did not understand the few emotions she felt… it was confusing to her mechanical like mind.

“Life, in essence, is not meaningless….” Urðr whispered, standing with the help of her sisters, the wires of her arm dangling free from the large tear that amputated her arm that lay further away than it had seemed before. “But I find no comfort in the shade under the branch of the Great Ash. I remember the mist of our ancient past. As I speak to you in the present, My ancient eyes see the terrible future.” Urðr kept her eyes averted from the young man, her iris barely visible with the colorless silver, looking like a bland sketch in a dreary existence. "Do you not see what I see? Do you not hear death approaching? No knowledge can save you, and no magic will save you. For you will end up in Fenrir's belly, while heaven and earth will burn in Surt's unholy fire.”

Urðr finally looked up at him, her dismal expression seemingly the only one she could afford. Sadness, depression, melancholy… it was that small bit of emotion that was left- but was feeling much heavier now than ever. “Our past is gone, we are mere memories input to data that is forced to destroy. There is no stopping it. The Virus will continue on killing, and so will everyone else. It’s a fact you cannot deny. We cannot reproduce, we cannot bleed or eat… we will only kill until there is one left, then the virus shall kill that last person until our data is nothing but mere useless coding absorbed into the network… death is inevitable… But I cling to the dim hope that man can fix the monster it created.”

After she said her due, she turned and walked away, bending over and picking up her arm that lay motionless on the wet stone and shoving it in place. The wires mingled together and the silver molded over the tears like liquid, leaving it perfectly normal. “Good-bye.” Urðr said simply, intending to leave him to the viruses that were getting more excited she would no longer be in the way for their meal was awaiting them. Their stirs more frequent and energetic than before.

[matthew]

The Hollow was right. Listening to her dismal words, Matt couldn't deny that there was a lot of truth in them. His back still turned to her, he could see the Viruses scrabbling over the rocks, impatiently lusting to devour him. There were a lot of them - and it was believed that the number was growing. Why were there always so many? Was it just that so many had been corrupted? Watching their red eyes stare back at him; he had a vision of a world where there were no other races left. Only Viruses. He shuddered, shaking his head, as if to dislodge the thought from his brain. All this crap about destiny and fate was starting to psyche him out. No, there was no way something like that would happen!

Turning around to face the now reconstructed Hollow, within the Pandora's box of her words - there had been a faint sparkle of hope. That sounded more like a prophecy he was comfortable believing in. Yeah, someone would fix this mess. It was like back in the real world: when a deadly virus was spreading, you normally just watched it on the news, and tried not to catch it while you waited for the cure. He'd let someone else solve the problem. After all, it's not like there was anything he could do about it. Except survive. "Then let man fix it himself." He shrugged, reaching up and scratching himself behind the ears. "Someone will solve the problem. Someone always does." The Beast tried to say convincingly enough to convince himself, without much success.

The Viruses shrieking out in chorus, they crawled out of their hiding places and slowly started to advance towards Matthew hungrilly. Having grown tired of listening to him debate with their ward. Beginning to back away, retreating in sync with the Virus' advance, he decided to forget about fate for now and worry about it later. Right now the present was more important. "Anyway..." He called out to the Hollow, as he backed closer and closer to the edge of one of the canyon walls. "I'm no psychic, but it doesn't take much imagination to know what your future's going to be." He sneered mockingly, just as he was cornered by the advancing Virus party. The entire lot of them were now standing in front of him, with nothing but a sheer drop of several miles into a rushing river behind. What might the starving creatures do if deprived of their prey? "Food for thought!" The Beast howled one last time, before he span around and jumped over the edge of the cliff.

Falling through the air, his arms spread out wide to maximize wind resistance, the Beast used his power over the wind to create an updraft beneath him to slow his fall. Sucking in air and oxygen, he manipulated the wind inside his body to slow his heartbeat and still his lungs - controlling himself so that he would not have to breathe at all for about an hour. Re-attaching his goggles, the Beast curled up into a ball and gently lowered himself beneath the surface of the raging river. Swept along by the current in an instant, the tricky Beast took a page out of the book of Loki this time; weaving through the underwater channel like a salmon. Thought he water was wild, and threw him against the jagged rocky walls repeatedly, the Beast kept his breath held, and remained stubbornly submerged. The overflowing river carrying him on a path out of the canyon, towards the Ring Forest, where it would become one of the many vein-like waterways feeding into the Ring River.