Dissonance Crescendo

The hanging bridge swayed and groaned beneath their frantic steps, its wooden planks creaking with every hurried footfall. Behind them, the toll of a bell continued, each chime rippling through the air, growing fainter with distance yet heavy with the promise of looming danger.
    The sea of clouds began to break apart, thinning into wisps as the bridge swayed beneath them. Jazz squinted through the mist, relief sparking in his chest when the end of the hanging bridge came into view. A sturdy platform anchored to the rocky cliff stood just ahead, promising solid ground. His feet pounded against the planks as he surged forward, heart racing.
    Reaching the end, Jazz whirled around, gripping the rope railing. He counted, eyes darting from one figure to the next as his friends sprinted across the bridge. First Gabe, his broad frame causing the planks to groan under his weight. Then Leeland, his face set in determination as he surged forward. Finally, Keilee raced across, her sweat-streaked face tight with focus as she reached the solid ground.
    “Move! We don’t have time!” Keilee’s shout jolted him, but Jazz held his ground, watching as they all gathered behind him, panting.
    Without a word, he summoned his Echo, its keybed shimmering into existence in his hands. In a flash, it morphed into a glowing sword, its blade humming with energy. Jazz raised it high and swung at the nearest rope with all his strength. The blade struck true, biting into the fibers, but the resistance jolted up his arm. The ropes were thick, unnaturally tough, and only a handful of strands frayed and snapped under the force. Too many remained, holding the bridge intact.
    Gritting his teeth, Jazz swung again, putting all his weight behind the blade. This time, more fibers gave way, curling back and snapping with sharp twangs as the tension broke. The ropes thinned, and the bridge sagged dangerously, swaying like a pendulum over the chasm, but still it held.
    “Get back, Jazz!” A voice boomed behind him.
    Jazz spun to see Gabe stepping forward, his Echo shimmering into form—a massive, radiant battle axe that seemed to ripple with light. Without hesitation, Gabe approached, towering over Jazz. He raised the axe high above his head, muscles straining as he brought it down with a thunderous motion.
    The axe struck with a deafening crack, cleaving through the remaining ropes in a single, devastating blow. Splinters flew, the bridge groaning in protest as the last strands snapped in rapid succession. With a final lurch, the entire structure collapsed, tumbling into the abyss below in a cascade of broken planks and frayed fibers.
    Leeland let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he stared at the collapsing bridge. “Well, I sure hope no Mal’ak was on that thing,”
    Leeland’s comment lingered in the air for a moment before Keilee hissed, “Let’s go!” Without hesitation, they broke into a run, their footsteps pounding against the uneven rocky path. The sound of their breath came in gasps as they pushed forward, the jagged terrain testing their endurance.
    Jazz didn’t dare glance back. The collapse of the bridge hadn’t bought them enough time—not yet. They needed to get further, somewhere to regroup and catch their breath.
    As they wove through the rocky outcroppings, Gabe suddenly pointed ahead. “There!”
    Nestled against a cliffside was a narrow crevice, just wide enough to slip through. A dense curtain of creeping vines partially concealed it, blending into the surrounding stone. It wasn’t perfect, but it offered a place to hide.
    One by one, they ducked inside, the cool shadows of the hollow wrapping around them like a protective cloak. The space was tight, the rough stone walls pressing against their backs as they crouched low. Beyond the entrance, the interior opened slightly, forming a shallow alcove big enough to hold them all.
    Jazz pressed a hand against the cold wall, catching his breath. “It’s not much,” he muttered, glancing at the others, “but it’ll do. We could spend the rest of the night here.”
    Keilee peeked through the curtain of vines, scanning the path they’d left behind. “If they followed, we’ll know soon enough.”
    “Let’s hope not,” Leeland muttered. “We’re cornered here.”

*  *  *

Early at dawn, Professor Mackenzie moved silently through the forest, eyes scanning for any clues that could lead him to the Rogue Resonants. The night’s darkness had only just begun to yield to the pale light of dawn, casting long shadows among the trees. He had spent the entire night to almost dawn searching, driven by an unrelenting determination despite having slept for only two hours. His body ached with exhaustion, but his mind remained sharp and focused.
    As he moved through the underbrush, memories of the encounter with the Valkhor beast in the long valley resurfaced. He recalled the tug he had felt deep within him, an energy that unmistakably linked to the stolen Resonance Key. The Rogue Resonants were behind its theft; he was certain of it. Yet doubt gnawed at him—was he even on the right path? The vast wilderness offered hundreds, if not thousands, of directions he could pursue, each one a potential dead end.
    Still, giving up was not an option. He had to find his son, Kenzie. The bond of blood and the hope of redemption drove him forward, compelling him to continue the search despite the overwhelming odds. The forest seemed to close in around him, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a morning bird. 
    Questions continued to linger in his mind. How had the Rogue Resonants followed them into the Eternal Resonance? What were they planning? Had he made the right decision to follow them? If he ever found them, what was he going to do? And how about Jazz, Leeland, Keilee, and Gabe—were they safe?
    His mind raced with these thoughts when something quickly caught his attention. He saw what seemed to be a slight sign of footprints on a patch of damp earth beneath a cluster of overhanging branches. At first, the footprints were not obvious, just faint impressions in the soft ground. Was this from the Rogue Resonants or other Mal’aks in this region, he wondered.
    As he followed the footprints, they became clearer. The trace of boots left distinct marks, unlike the traditional Mal’ak footwear. These looked more modern, a telltale sign that humans, not Mal’aks, had passed this way. His tiredness suddenly vanished, replaced by a surge of determination and adrenaline.
    He continued to track the footprints, his pace quickening. The trail led him to a muddy area where the ground was softer and the prints more pronounced. He knelt down to analyze them closely. There were clearly four sets of footprints, each distinct in size and shape. This was no random occurrence. The Rogue Resonants had been here.
    With renewed vigor, Professor Mackenzie pressed on, following the muddy path. His steps quickened, knowing he was now tracking them. Soon, the footprints grew less distinct as the path led him to a grassy, brushy area.
    He followed the broken brush, the bent and trampled patterns in the grass indicating that someone had recently passed through. The trail became fainter, the signs less obvious, but he pressed on, eyes scanning for any clue.
    Then, the traces seemed to vanish completely, swallowed by the dense vegetation. Just as frustration began to creep in, he saw something from afar—a faint light flickering through the trees. His heart beat faster. It was a bonfire.
    With cautious steps, Professor Mackenzie moved closer, the light growing brighter with each step. As the firelight became more distinct, he slowed down, his movements becoming deliberate and silent.
    When the bonfire was just a short distance away, he halted and took cover behind a large tree. Peeking around the trunk, he saw four figures resting around the fire. Shadows danced on their faces, but he could make out enough to confirm his suspicions: these were the Rogue Resonants he had been tracking.
    Professor Mackenzie tried to listen to their discussion, but the sound was too faint. Determined to gather any information he could, he moved closer, hiding from tree to tree, his footfalls careful and silent.
    As he came within a closer distance, he sat behind a thick tree trunk, closing his eyes to focus on their voices beyond the sounds of crickets and chirping birds.
    “Are we sure that the west here is the same west in our world?” came a woman’s voice, tinged with frustration.
    “Shut up, Ivy! That’s not even helping,” replied a man, his tone sharp and impatient.
    “Just eat your apples,” another man said, sounding weary.
    “We are in a different world. For all we know, is this even an apple?” she retorted sarcastically.
    “It looks and tastes like an apple. Don’t eat if you don’t want to,” another voice chimed in, a familiar voice—Professor Mackenzie knew it was his son, Kenzie.
    “Do you know how far we are from the chasm, Kenzie?” inquired a man.
    “The Light-bringer told me that it is about two days’ walk west,” Kenzie replied. “So, maybe a day more.”

*  *  *

A soft glimmer caught Jazz’s eyes, causing him to blink and wake up. From the small light seeping through a narrow crevice, it was clear that morning had arrived. He glanced around and saw that all his friends were still asleep, their exhausted faces peaceful in the dim shelter.
    Suddenly, Jazz remembered their agreement from the night before to take turns keeping watch. It had been Leeland’s turn last, but he was fast asleep, slumped against the wall. He must have drifted off during his watch.
    Jazz stood up quietly, careful not to disturb his friends. He moved to the crevice and peeked outside. The morning light confirmed that dawn had broken. The area outside was serene, with no signs of any Mal’aks around.
    “Hey, Jazz,” came a voice from behind. Turning, it was Keilee. 
    “Sorry, did I wake you?” Jazz asked.
    “No, I’m just having a hard time sleeping on rocks,” Keilee replied, rubbing her neck.
    She turned to the others, “Hey, Deep Tone, Lyric. Wake up, sleepy heads!” she said, tapping them gently.
    “What time is it?” Leeland mumbled, his eyes still half shut. 
    “From what I remember, it’s time for your watch!” Keilee remarked.
    Leeland jolted awake. “Sorry, guys. I must have fallen asleep.”
    “It’s alright, no sign of danger outside,” Jazz said. “What’s the plan?”
    “I was planning to brush my teeth,” Keilee murmured to herself. “But we don’t have our bags.”
    “Yes, I can smell your breath from here,” Leeland teased, and Keilee quickly kicked him lightly in response.
    “How about eating?” Gabe suggested.
    “Speaking of, what are we going to eat?” Leeland asked.
    “I think I saw some trees outside,” Jazz replied. “Their fruits look like the ones the Mal’aks offered us.”
    They carefully made their way out of the narrow crevice. Jazz led the way, motioning for everyone to be quiet as they stepped into the open air. The trees nearby looked much like the ones they had seen before, with clusters of fruit hanging from their branches, glistening in the early light.
    Keilee was the first to approach, eyeing the fruit cautiously. “If it looks like the Mal’aks’ fruit, then it probably is,” she muttered, reaching up to pluck one from a low-hanging branch.
    Gabe followed her, towering over the others as he moved with surprising care, his large hands selecting fruit with the same precision. “Hope it tastes better than it looks,” he remarked, inspecting the skin of one before biting into it.
    Leeland, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, chose a fruit and sniffed it skeptically before taking a small bite. “Not bad,” he said, grinning.
    Jazz, standing a bit apart, watched their reactions. He picked a fruit himself as his thoughts briefly wandered to the Mal’aks and the journey ahead, but he quickly pushed them aside.
    “We should hurry,” Jazz said.
    Keilee nodded, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. “Now how are we supposed to know where the Conductor went?”
    “This might help us,” Leeland said, pulling something out from behind his pants, a folded map.
    “I found this in the room. Took it, thinking it would come in handy,” he continued with a proud grin.
    “Nice move, Lyric!” Keilee remarked, giving him a playful nod.
    “I know, I’m brilliant,” Leeland replied, puffing out his chest.
    Whatever!” Keilee shot back, rolling her eyes.
    Leeland chuckled as he unfolded the map, showing the group a rough layout of the area. “Alright, let’s see if we can figure this out,” he said, tracing his fingers along the lines.
    “How are we supposed to read that?” Gabe asked, frowning at the map as he noticed the text written in Mal’ak language.
    “This,” Jazz said, pointing to a distinct part of the map. “This area looks like it’s circled, almost like it’s bordered off.”
    “The Negative Harmony?” Gabe guessed, his brow furrowing as he took a closer look.
    “Looks like it,” Leeland replied, his finger tracing the edge of the marked area.
    “This one looks like the Skyward Cavern,” Leeland continued, pointing to another section on the map. “From here, going toward what looks like the Negative Harmony, we should head west.”
    “I still have the compass with me,” Gabe said, pulling it from his pocket. “West is that way.” He pointed in the direction with a firm nod.
    “Let’s go, we need to make up for lost time,” Jazz said, his expression focused.

*  *  *

At the rooftop of the Skyward Cavern, the first light of morning had already broken across the horizon, casting a soft glow over the rugged stone. A figure knelt motionless on the stone, his eyes closed in deep concentration. His forehead nearly touched the cool surface beneath him, and his posture was humble. The silence around him seemed almost sacred
    Slowly, with deliberate control, the figure began to rise. His hands pressed firmly against the stone, lifting his body up with a fluid motion. He moved from his kneeling position, shifting to rest one knee on the ground while placing the other foot flat, a gesture that seemed to pause time itself. It was a moment of stillness, a brief yet powerful signal of respect.
    His eyes fluttered open, taking in the vastness of the sky above, as though waiting for a sign. After a long pause, his voice broke the silence, the words flowing in the ancient Mal’ak language. “Al’aric valere’khis tal’gar, y’vi’ka athar.” (Al’aric, ruler of all, help us.)
    The heavy door creaked open, its groan cutting through the still morning air. A figure stepped outside. “S’jarre, tal’sharath.” (S’jarre, Sir, it is ready.)
    S’jarre rose to his feet, he turned to the Mal’ak who had summoned him, nodding in acknowledgment. 
    Together, they descended a spiral staircase made of dark, polished wood. At the bottom, they entered a room dimly lit by flickering sconces, their flames casting warm glows against the cold stone walls. The air was heavy with a quiet intensity, the space filled with a sense of purpose.
    Inside the room were five round stone tables, each one smooth and carved with intricate symbols. Atop each table rested a glowing blue crystal, softly pulsing with light. From each crystal, a shimmering image began to form—a figure appearing, as though materializing from the very air itself. The images were not solid, but rather ethereal, casting a soft glow on the stone surface. Each crystal displayed the likeness of a different person, their forms flickering like fleeting shadows, suspended in mid-air above the tables. 
    They began their discussion in the Mal’ak language.
    “You know the crystal is only used for matters of great importance, S’jarre,” a voice echoed from the middle stone table.
    “Yes, I understand,” S’jarre replied. “But I fear that great peril looms over the Eternal Resonance.”
    “What is the concern?” said one from the first stone table.
    “A few days ago, Men entered our realm,” S'jarre answered.
    The expressions of the five Mal’aks suddenly shifted to a grave one.
    “A few days ago, five humans entered our realm,” S’jarre continued. “One acted as their leader, accompanied by three young men and one young woman.”
    “They are resonants. So, we welcomed them here in Skyward Cavern and inquired how they managed to enter our realm. They said they found a portal from their world to ours.”
    S’jarre leaned forward from his chair and continued, “They found the Resonance Key.”
    “Where is the Resonance Key?” the fourth one asked.
    “Their leader said they were attacked by a Valkhor,” S’jarre replied. “This was confirmed by a Mal’ak child who helped them. The leader believes he might have lost it during the attack.”
    “We went to the place where they were attacked to find the Resonance Key,” S’jarre continued. “But their leader went missing. That same day, we held the four humans in Skyward Cavern, but they escaped—they actually attacked some of the Mal’ak guards.”
    “So the Resonance Key was with them?” the fifth one asked.
    “I don’t know for sure,” S’jarre replied. “But I’m afraid they might impose a threat to the Eternal Resonance. If they have the Resonance Key and are hiding it from us, they are probably planning something.”
    “That is why I called this council meeting,” S’jarre continued. “The four young humans destroyed our bridge. We are currently rebuilding it. I would like to ask your community to help find these humans. Some of the Mal’aks from Skyward Cavern are already searching for them.”
    “D’raen,” said the one in the middle, “your community is the nearest to the great chasm. Deploy warrior Mal’aks to guard the place.”
    The second Mal’ak nodded and said, “We will.”
    “Is there anything else we need to know, S’jarre?” asked the one in the middle.
    “That is all. May Al’aric guide us,” S’jarre said.
    “May he!” the five responded in unison. 

*  *  *

The wasteland sprawled out under the light of six moons, casting an eerie, pallid glow over the rugged terrain. Shadows stretched long and twisted, playing tricks on the eyes, but Professor Mackenzie’s focus remained unbroken. He had been tracking the four Rogue Resonants for days, each step a cautious, calculated move to avoid detection.
    From his elevated vantage point, he could see them now, four figures moving below like specters in the night. His perch was on a slowly ascending slope, a jagged ridge that overlooked the path they were taking. The ground was harsh and unforgiving, each step a reminder of his growing weakness. Professor Mackenzie hadn’t eaten or drunk much in days; the relentless pursuit had left him no time to forage for food or water. His body was screaming for sustenance, but he couldn’t afford to lose sight of them—not now.
    He scanned the landscape, searching for a way to descend and get ahead of the Rogue Resonants while still maintaining his cover. As he did, his eyes caught something on the horizon. It started as a faint glow, but as he climbed higher, it became clearer—a large, swirling mist of dark blue and purple, pulsating ominously in the distance.
    Terror gripped him, a cold, gnawing fear that momentarily overshadowed his exhaustion. The sight was both mesmerizing and horrifying, a malignant beauty that promised nothing but despair. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized what he was seeing: the border of the Negative Harmony.