The Elestial Stylus

Chapter 1: Din

A grievous rumbling began to penetrate the outer layers of the atmosphere, filling the air underneath with a brutal cacophony of acoustic radiation. The day's warmth, which hung patiently above the trees, found itself accompanied by this unexpected and unpleasant noise as it filtered through the canopy, into the depths of Anaahat forest. The bustling sound of insects and small animals going about their business between the fallen branches and decomposing leaves of the forest floor quickly halted, as the grim echoes reverberated through the underbrush.

Dinderhelm Merritt, a disheveled young man known as Din to the few who ever saw him, ventured outside to investigate. He stumbled clumsily through his front door - which was set within the trunk of an unusually large tree - and began peering upwards through the spaces between the quivering leaves. The Pha tree can grow to an almost limitless size, only known to stop when it encounters an equally stubborn species of flora. This particular Pha Tree wasn't as old as it appeared, and despite resembling a large dwelling, had not been chopped or cut in any way, it had instead, somehow, been persuaded to grow into a house, of sorts.

The noise grew enormously loud. It rolled like a continuous thunder. There was another more odious element to the noise, similar to the deep, primal screams one might make were they having their soul crudely separated from their body. 

The trees started to vibrate around Din, causing the branches above to strain and creak. Pieces of loose bark dropped through the canopy onto the ground and pinged up and down on the surface alongside fallen pha-corns. He looked around nervously and witnessed a spider rocking back and forth as its web pulsated uncontrollably. Behind him, the knocker on his door began tapping in frenzy and his windows shook forcefully in their frames. He anxiously scanned the sky once more, trying to discover the source of the ear-shatteringly deep trembling noise, but soon realized the bellowing occupied the entire atmosphere; as if the whole planet of Rocksphear was rolling like a marble down a galactic gravel path. He felt it permeate his skin, the reverberations creeping into his bones and sinews as he stood there stunned and afraid.

His worry wasn't helped by the effect the terrifying noise was having on his tenants. The black squirrels, who admittedly held a naturally nervous disposition, had all rushed into Din's library fearing their tiny nooks within the tree were not sufficient to protect them from the thunderous roar. This was troubling not only because he found their behavior peculiar, but also because they tended to nibble first and ask questions later. He was concerned they might chew away months of his invaluable research.

Perhaps more disconcertingly, the arrowbills, yellowtails, pha-peckers, and great horned twohoo's flew from their nests high in the branches down to the ground, though not before several of them had evacuated their concerned bowels. Seeing them all on the forest floor, timidly chirping and hoo-ing as they traipsed through the off-white results of their fear splatter while being pelted by shards of bouncing bark, was particularly unsettling. Usually, birds would fly away - except for arrowbills, who generally tried to solve problems by stabbing said problems with their razor-sharp beaks - taking shelter on the forest floor wasn't something he'd seen them do before.

The sky boomed aggressively as a massive flash of blackness hurtled through the atmosphere. It quickly encompassed everything in a thick blanket of complete darkness. The harsh, dissonant sound grew bigger, louder, heavier. Din's tiny ear hairs flailed erratically as the sound crashed through his ear canal. His eardrum trembled and pulsed until the feeling grew to be unbearable, almost deafening. Din covered his ears, closed his eyes, and cowered.

Memories began flashing through his thoughts. Having had a rather upsetting life so far, this only made things worse. He briefly saw his mother's face, watching him from the window as he played with his brother and sister in their garden as children. His lips tightened as his thoughts jumped to the morning they were removed from their home by Patrons, and the long walk out of the city, through the forest. His whole body trembled. Sweat gathered on his stricken, pale face as he saw flashes of the moments before the Patrons attacked them. His mind flickered and flared as he watched himself run deeper into the forest, too afraid to look back. His stomach twisted; he squeezed a tormented wail through gritted teeth as his memories repeatedly raced through his mind.