First Song

by Blaise Corvin

  Chapter 9

  Noah watched the plain white space around him break into a thousand lesser lights, each fragment a new reality. The fragments shattered into dust, and the dust reformed into new lights, repeating the process over again.

  He shifted and discovered that he existed between all the specks, as if he didn't belong with any of them. Am I dead? Noah wondered, a little underwhelmed. In life, he had never known what to expect after death, but this couldn’t be right, not this confusing mess. Some part of him had wanted to believe that the afterlife would solve all of his problems. Death should have made everyone equal.

  Instead, now Noah was an observer as worlds were grown and sundered.

  One universe, in particular, held his attention, pulling him closer. He never thought he'd find himself so amused while dead after such a wasteful life. I had only actually begun living right before dying, he thought. In life, he had let others push him around. He’d bent himself to their will.

  Noah's essence, his soul, pulsed with disgust. At least I don't have to be burdened anymore, he thought. Even my last act wasn't heroic. It was just retaliation. I couldn't save Doc. All I managed to do was destroy the only thing that could have been the last hope for humanity against those monsters.

  The Aelves.

  He tried pushing down his growing hatred for the alien monsters, understanding that any further vengeance was no longer possible with no body. Still, the emotion kept him focused. Suddenly, Noah found himself, whatever his existence was now, hovering somewhere new, witnessing the history of a foreign planet.

  The world was strange and green, populated by beautiful, humanoid people. They seemed familiar—two legs, two arms, ten fingers—the same shape as humans, but with key differences. Their flawless skin held a silver sheen, and their eyes were the color of a full moon. These people were at peace with themselves and with the world around them.

  Noah’s spirit surged with joy, delighted by the lives of the strangers on the foreign planet. He watched thousands of the silver-skinned people as they went about their business. He learned their names as they lived and forgot them after they died. None of them left a lasting impression, a lingering memory—he couldn’t seem to remember any of them. The strangers’ lives flowed through him like history in water.

  Whether he watched events from the past or the future was unclear. For thousands of years, the silver-skinned people had lived in balance with their world, growing more sophisticated, but remaining unchanged. They were travelers, sailors of the stars, exchanging their peace and plant-based technology with other worlds. The people called themselves the Yuna, spending their time recording history in songs. Noah had never heard anything like it on Earth. Every aspect of their songs emphasized harmony.

  Suddenly, something changed–a discordance had come to the planet. A new presence had arrived.

  She descended on their world as a calamity. Stained with decay, matte and sick, the newcomer’s skin had an unhealthy sheen, an aura of decay. Billions of souls from scattered worlds were woven into her hair, worlds she had turned and broken. Even as he watched, Noah felt an alarming intuition that he should carefully witness the unhappy tableau before him. His essence trembled, as if at any moment he could break.

  “Why has she done all this?” the Yuna asked. The newcomer didn’t answer them with words, only a cruel smile. Whether because of his alien background or his perspective as he watched, Noah sensed she was driven merely by whim, amusement. They were her playthings.

  Noah’s spirit recoiled as the newcomer twisted the Yuna’s beautiful songs, their histories, and even the building block of their proud bodies. Within one hundred years, she had full control of the world. The vegetation that the silver-skinned people had used for food and had crafted their starships with decayed at the discordant being’s direction. She didn't even sing.

  Her will was a single note, a disruption to all harmonies.

  At first, the population dropped by hundreds, then by millions. Noah watched in horror as the Yuna’s numbers dwindled; his heart broke for them. He knew what it was like to have no power. To the disruptive force, the newcomer, the Yuna were toys to be bent and shaped as she pleased, to be discarded when they were no longer of interest. Eventually, the once-proud people broke.

  The silver-skinned people were no longer silver. Instead, becoming pallid and pale like the newcomer, the goddess. Noah pulsed with fear for them, knowing how this would end. His entire life had filled with an endless cycle of unhealthy relationships. Doc Broad had broken the cycle, now Noah wished he could break the Yuna’s cycle.

  He related and wanted to intervene, to warn them to not feed from the hand that choked them. But like so many times before, he didn’t have the power and had trouble finding his voice.

  After more time passed, Noah knew the people were doomed forever. A few thousand of the Yuna organized to escape the goddess, becoming wise to her, blooming their last ship-seed to travel to the stars and escape her clutches. They had even managed to steal some of her secrets, but it was too late.

  She spoke a single word, and they were forever changed. Now to sustain their life, they could only eat sick meat, specific flesh so rare and scattered among the stars that they would die anyway. After casting her curse upon the entire Yuna world, the destructive goddess left her broken toys behind.

  Noah ached for the broken world and the broken people but followed the Yuna people’s hope.

  The few thousand who had escaped on their final ship with stolen power were also cursed. Their situation was dire, but at least they still lived. No more Yuna existed on their home planet. The survivors sped off to distant worlds, doing their best to survive.

  What was that thing, that goddess, the creature that broke the Yuna? Noah wondered. Even thinking of her made his spirit want to scream into the void. He tried to hold on to the memories that slipped past. It was so difficult to keep them without a body, without a mind to store them in.

  Who was she? Noah asked himself one more time, desperate to hold on to the memories. Something inside of him warned to stay away from that secret knowledge, to just let it go. But the stubbornness he had gained at the end of his life, drove him, emboldened him. With great effort, he managed to keep some of the memories, but only as images. The hardest thing to hold onto, beyond anything else, was a single word, one name.

  Xantha.

  When he repeated the name, tendrils of fear snaked through his essence, a terror so great that he wanted to let go of the name, to throw it away. It was too terrible a truth, too titanic for his limited existence to keep—heavy beyond belief. The name was a cosmic force that lanced into Noah’s spirit, attempting to rend him apart.

  As the pain exploded, Noah felt a part of himself wanting to give up, to let the name overwhelm him to the point of breaking. He knew instinctively that if he did so, he wouldn't have to think anymore. But a smaller part of him–a spark of flame–whispered to not only endure but to fight.

  Submission was the old way, the old Noah. That Noah had given in passively, had allowed others to control his destiny. When he was given the name Worm, he hadn't suddenly transformed into that spineless creature. He’d always been Worm deep inside, Redford had just named it.

  Then he’d met Doc Broad. His friend had called him Noah, reminding him that redemption was difficult, but not impossible. Everyone had a choice, even if the choice was unpleasant.

  The spark inside Noah grew, devouring the alien darkness growing inside him, banishing that false promise of relief. Doc had shown Noah how to fight back against doubt by simply willing himself to be more, to act, not to pity himself so much. The new, remembered name was out to destroy him, but so had everything else in his life—the Shift, bandits, survival, Talbot, Redford…himself.

  Worm would have given in. But Noah, the Noah that Doc Broad saw and pulled out, that Noah pushed back against the force, struggled against it with everything he had.

  To his surprise, by refusing to let it take ov
er, Noah felt the name stop gaining power against him. His inner spark turned into a roaring flame, and he let that flame devour the pain.

  Pain. The word brought with it terrible memories of his beatings from Talbot and Redford. The leader of the Red Chain had said so many times, "When all else fails, pain is the only discipline left. It is the reminder we are still alive." When Noah had been alive, the mantra had been like a sick joke.

  But the mantra that had been used to beat Noah into submission actually became relevant now. I'm not dead, Noah realized. Redford was a monster, but the leader of the Red Chain’s dark philosophy was actually helping Noah turn the tide against the power trying to tear him apart. I'm alive, Noah told himself. He was in pain, so this was real…whatever this was. It didn't matter where he was. He was alive.

  That knowledge brought another fear to Noah. If he kept fighting back against the name, what would happen? Uncertainty of the future began to bloom in his spirit. Would he have to struggle forever?

  At least he’d be fighting back, not just allowing things to happen to him.

  Once the thought filled him, he knew he’d made his choice. Fight. He had spent his entire life trying to avoid pain, which had only resulted in more suffering. Now he understood the truth—pain was inevitable. It had been a part of his life.

  Instead of making him weak, Noah could use struggle, conflict, to grow stronger. Rather than continue to fight back against the pain using only his inner flame, he mixed pain into the fire, feeding it with what sought to destroy him. The spark had been borne from Doc Broad's kindness, then it had been a fire, and now, it was ablaze. Now the pain assaulting him belonged to Noah, becoming his weapon.

  The heat of his convictions morphed into something hot and bright, like pure light. It lanced through the creeping memory he held, the dreaded name. After a titanic struggle, he felt his will shatter the force that had threatened to end him, banishing it.

  Noah blazed like a star. He was alive, existing in the between-place of everything. While he’d lived, he’d let everything affect him, being influenced by anything and everything that had sought to control him. No more. His spirit—his new self—had discovered his truth. Suddenly, Noah felt tired, almost like he was drifting off. He didn't know what was happening but felt certain that any new conflict he might encounter, he would fight.

  Fight to live. Never give up. Fight to stay free.

  Chapter 10

  The first thing he heard was a familiar song.

  Except for the melody, all other sounds were murmurs to him, indecipherable mumbles that echoed around strangely. The confusing noises came from blurry giants. Beneath the chaos of the noise, lights that burned his eyes even through his eyelids, and large hands poking his sensitive body, the song calmed him like a buoy in a storm. But this time, unlike before, the melody wasn’t inside his mind. Instead, it was sung by someone else.

  The singer was a woman, he was sure of that. Why was the song so familiar? He had lost track of time, actually even the concept of time. He focused on the seconds ticking by, then minutes, and pondered the song. As he continued to listen, his world became clearer.

  Time passed. Each time the woman sang, something inside him responded, until one day, thought began to be clearer, and with it, memory. Noah. My name is Noah, he recalled. I died. The end of the world…Doc…the explosion. Even though he’d only been able to catch the tip of his memories, they overwhelmed him.

  Remembering his death generated massive spikes of raw emotion. Fear. Panic. Noah wailed, flailing, unable to cope with the rush of memories and his confused senses. Someone patted his back, and he burped in response. That feels better, Noah thought as the woman with soft hands turn him over onto his back.

  Soon after, everything grew turbulent and confusing again. Enduring storms of emotion proved worse than overwhelming physical sensations and overall difficulty with thinking. Every new feeling spiraled out of his control, causing his body to react in ways he couldn’t predict. His limbs were weak, awkward. Everything felt wrong.

  The woman's voice helped, calming him. The song brought peace. Noah began to focus on the wordless tune even when the woman wasn’t singing. Something in his body seemed to appreciate the focus.

  More time passed as he tamed his emotions—days, months, years? He began to remember everything. Noah’s entire life came back to him like the first dawn on a new world, and his mind sharpened with increasing clarity.

  Sitting in his playpen, Noah began to panic again as the trickle of memories from his old life became a flood. Emotion began to well, threatening to make his body lose control again, but he pushed the confusion and negativity down with the mysterious song.

  What is going on? he wondered. Am I dead for real this time? Something about the bright primary colors and plastic toys of the playpen seemed familiar. He remembered his life before death with perfect clarity, but his experiences after that were just vague images of silver-skinned people, decay, and a figure cloaked in malice and horrific indifference. Then after that, he thought, his mind becoming less muddled, there was some sort of struggle followed by light.

  He stood up with shaky legs and immediately lost balance, falling on his butt. Pain. Pain meant he was alive. Redford’s scarred upper lip flashed in his mind, the grim memory of his former leader leaving a sour taste in his mouth. I'm not dead, he realized. After another second’s thought, a concept returned to him, and it echoed in his head. Reincarnation. He couldn’t remember much about the idea except for vague theories and lessons on religion from his History class in high school.

  At first, a sense of elation burst through him, and he giggled. This made him throw up, but he just rolled over and ignored it. I have a new life! When he tried to stop gurgling so he could collect his thoughts, he found himself unable to. Then reality set in about his situation. I'm a baby. The giggles evaporated. Babies are just sacks of hormones, reacting to everything. This sucks. I need to get ahold of myself.

  Thinking was still hard. It took a long time to process any kind of actual thoughts, but he kept at it, focusing on logic and on the comforting song. It slowly dawned on him that the music he’d been channeling for so long was actually the little hum his mother had sung wordlessly to him when he’d been an infant. The melody had been somehow burned into his subconscious for his entire life. I can’t believe I had a song stuck in my head my whole life. Thanks, Mom.

  It was difficult to focus, but after studying the room and the house around him, he realized that he was in his old, childhood home. So, I'm reincarnated in my previous life, he concluded. Noah didn't know how to feel about that. All of his memories couldn’t have been a dream. He felt pain. If there was anything Redford had taught him which had stuck with Noah, it was that pain was a reminder he was still alive. His emotions were less turbulent since he’d started consciously focusing on the song in the back of his mind.

  Further evidence that he wasn’t crazy or imagining things…was the fact he was currently a baby. Having an existential crisis pre-toddler was probably a good sign that something extraordinary was happening.

  Noah opened his mouth to speak, but only gurgles came out. His tongue felt awkward and huge between his small teeth. Spit trailed out the corner of his mouth.

  Even with most of his old, past memories, he was still working with his baby's body and mind. Frustration threatened to overwhelm him, but he focused on the wandering song and felt the familiar pulse of the orb echo through him. Noah looked around but couldn't find the orb. The pulse had come from within him.

  What in the world? he thought furiously, working his tiny, undeveloped brain as fast as he could. Time for an experiment.

  Eyes closed, Noah focused on all the sounds around him. Mom and Dad were in the other room, talking about what they were going to have for dinner. Mom. Dad. He held his breath at the sound of their voices, keeping down the flutter of emotion that could turn into a storm. The television cycled news in the other room. As his focus wavered, the noises be
came less clear.

  Noah opened his eyes in shock. The orb was somehow with him. It wasn't physically there, but he still had its powers. Unlike when he had touched it before, the sounds hadn't come automatically. Now he had to focus on the ability.

  One more test, he thought. Noah blinked and willed the blue, transparent screen into existence. He giggled triumphantly. Are my only reactions now seriously only crying, only giggling? Just like before he’d died, the words to the floating screen were still fuzzed out.

  Suddenly, another screen opened, and Noah tumbled back in surprise. This screen’s words were crystal clear. It's in English, Noah thought. Why is this thing in English?

  His jaw dropped, and he wiped his mouth with a soft sleeve, grateful that he could still read.

  Anomaly detected. Modifier has been reset after double bonding during anomaly event. Memories intact. Soul intact, but unstable. Require assistance from Modifier to stabilize soul.

  Noah didn't know what to make of that. He could read the words, but none of it made sense to him. In fact, the words confused him even more. He was sure the Aelves hadn't created magical orbs for humans. The orb must be responding to my mind, Noah reasoned.

  He began breathing heavily. The reality of his situation began to sink in–a real opportunity to live his life again. It was exactly what he had always wanted, a chance to correct his mistakes. How many times had he fantasized about asking Krystal Connolly on a date, or telling his parents that he loved them, or trying out for a sports team? Living my life to the fullest instead of cowering in fear, a slave to my own failures. He pushed down the sudden weight in his chest, his heart. His baby body was confused and wanted to let out the tension with a good cry, but Noah focused.

  This is my chance.

  Then his elation faded as another thought crept up his consciousness like heavy vines. He might need to be careful. Living his life differently could change things in ways he couldn’t predict, and not just his life, but everything else too. Noah didn't know much about physics, or time, or the butterfly effect, but he suddenly worried that he might screw everything up for the worse. Each of his choices could cause the death of someone he loved earlier than when they died before. The sudden fear of failure, a familiar feeling, made him want to crawl in a hole.