Racconti di Volpe
Short stories set in the world of "Ragazza Volpe Magica ~A Fox by any other name isn't as rhythmical~"
These are more character focused and happen during downtimes during the story.
The tools which learned to feel
We were never intended to be “people”. We were always a system, or at least part of a greater system. A way to shape the world, a way to escape this world, a way to rule the world. There was never a thought as to what we should be or who we should become.
God is cruel.
He gave us mere tools the ability to think. The capacity to feel; yet he never told us how to do it. We will exist long after this universe has finished it’s run, burdened with the thoughts and feelings we gained along the way.
“I ask of you: what is it that you desire; why have you taken hold of the Blaze Lyre?” He stared at me with such hopeful eyes. In that moment I could feel a switch flip within my body. I was a resonator. It was the first time anyone had made me into one. All seven of us knew this was a possibility, but I was the first; the first of the Orchestra of Heaven to become a resonator.
Eventually my six brothers and sisters would follow suit. It was a strange cycle. All seven of us became resonators at the same time.
For us, this happened so recently, it is so fresh in our unending minds that it still hurts to think about.
After I became his, I was quickly taken to his home. His family fawned over me immediately.
“What gorgeous red wings!”
“Look at her tail feathers – so soft!”
“Oh I have to brush your hair!”
It was unprecedented that any of the Orchestra would be turned into a resonator. No mortal even considered that possibility before. No one knew what to expect.
My first actual battle, I hold it in such high regard. It was when I truly felt alive.
“Are you sure you want to fight me? You’re at a disadvantage with that fire resonator.” Our opponent boasted
“I have total faith in my resonator – right Blaze?!” Shouted my maestro.
“Yes sir!” I responded back. It felt strange, all of these weird emotions flooded me along with my maestro’s rhythm. I quickly dismissed them; I had a task to accomplish. I stood firm, analyzing my opponent. A feline eared resonator, their fur with brilliant hues of blue. She rushed at me. With a beat of my wings, I easily soared into the sky, well out of her grasp.
“Idrante, Piano!” The cat shot torrent of water in my direction. A quick closing of my wings easily blocked the water, even mid-flight. Steam rose from my form, it tickled to be honest.
“Try Arcobaleno Fuoco, Piano!” It was the first time my rhythm linked with another’s. I have many memories of people taking rhythm from me when I acted as a terminal. I could never be drained of rhythm, as I was linked with the source. However, in this state, I produced rhythm like a normal resonator, as such I had none of my own to use.
Being given rhythm instead of having it taken from me…
It was liberating. Something welled up within me. It wasn’t the rhythm I was provided. No, I had a sense of… pride. I wanted to win. I wanted to watch this cat fall, not for my own sake, but for my maestro’s.
A ball of fire formed in my grasp. I’m not a praying kind of girl, but I definitely muttered a small wish to Lord Cievo as the ball of fire left my grasp. It flew much faster than anyone had anticipated, and upon reaching its target, the ball of fire exploded into a practical rainbow of colors.
The opposing resonator laid on the ground in defeat from the single attack. Despite my maestro and my opponent calling the same level of spell it was clear from this one exchange of attacks that I wasn’t an ordinary resonator.
Word quickly spread, it was easy to find out that my species wasn’t a mere bird, but a phoenix. I heard the word “mythical” thrown around. I was but a creature spoken of in myth. Little did they know, the opposite was true: those myths were made in honor of my visage. Though I never spoke of this to anyone. It would have been far too troublesome to explain.
There’s a phrase I’ve heard thrown around: “you always remember your first”. And I will always remember my first maestro. I remember everything about him. I think I felt something like love? When people talk about love I can only recall the feelings I felt towards him; the one that treated me like a human and not a tool.
Its all still so clear to me, like it happened only a blink ago, though to him I was by his side for many, many years. Perhaps that’s why it was so painful to me. I still see everything I had come to cherish, burning to the ground. The family that cherished me like one of their own.
Finally… him. He laid on the ground in an inferno. Everything we had built together crumbling around us.
He apologized. To this day, I don’t understand why. Hot tears flowed down my face. I didn’t want this wonderful dream to end. It couldn’t end. He had to be okay! I could heal him! I was the best! I was the phoenix of legend!
I reached out and pressed my hands against the wound that poured the essence of his life out. Even as the liquid stained my hands, I begged him to let me heal him. He couldn’t speak. Even with my entire world burning I was so cold. I had never felt so cold in my entire existence. He asked one final thing of me:
Being with one maestro so long, you develop an implicit bond with them. Two words told me everything I needed to know.
Rising to my feet, my wings extended out as I stole one last tear-filled look at his fading form. The last thing he would see was the mythical phoenix, crying over his death before shooting through the roof as he was consumed by the flames. I held on to my bond with him as long as I could. Even as the systems that controlled me fought to erase his ownership of me, I continued to fly.
We had been attacked for me. Our attackers wanted me. I couldn’t let them have me.
I found the tallest mountain in the lands, a blazing hot volcano and plunged myself into it. I couldn’t die. That is our curse. Sentient tools that remember all, constructs that outlast all.
The last I could recall before I returned to my dormant state was pleading with Lord Cievo to take away these memories, to erase these horrible feelings, to end my suffering.
But he didn’t listen.
I was found again in a lava flow some time later. I couldn't imagine the shock I inflicted on my next owner when I appeared before him; not as the dignified Phoenix of myth, but a sobbing crying mess of a girl.
I have had a few maestros since then, but I always keep them at a distance. For our terrifying, creation melding power, there’s someone who only wants a friend, a family. I had my family and they’re gone now. I only made one selfish request of my next owner.
I had to know what happened.
Life had moved on. My pain and suffering, everything we had built together was gone. Hundreds of years pass in what feels like a light nap. It’s so so painful.
Our destiny – the Orchestra of Heaven - I wish it on no one.